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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23090422">take my hand, take my whole life too</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilieee/pseuds/emilieee'>emilieee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Puns, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, Slightly Aged up, Slow Burn, adrienette - Freeform, ladrien, lots of marichat, lowkey lila salt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:07:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23090422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilieee/pseuds/emilieee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shouldering the weight of the world on one’s own was never an easy task, and Marinette learns this the hard way. </p><p>As the enemy grows stronger, her distance from everyone around her seems to grow wider as well—from her partner, from her friends, from her parents. In a time where unity is the only fighting chance they have, it also seems to be the one thing they cannot achieve. </p><p>But sometimes, it takes a bit of rule-breaking, a bit of crying, and a perhaps a couple of awful jokes to realize that the weight of the sky is much lighter when shared.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>635</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Post season 3: Master Fu is gone, Marinette is the guardian of the Miracle Box, and everything is kind of in shambles. </p><p>They're also slightly aged-up in this fic (around 16-17).</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It’s Chat Noir, she reminds herself again. A hesitant, clawed hand lays itself down on her shoulder, cautious at first, before Chat is rubbing soothing circles down her back. </p><p>Ladybug cannot risk being weak in front of Chat. But maybe, just maybe, Marinette can. </p><p>At least, she hopes so. </p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There has never been a time that Marinette has felt more utterly, helplessly, painfully out of control than now. </p><p>Time does little to help. In fact, it probably worsens things. Underneath her bed, the miracle box is stored in a container that houses her fabrics and sewing supplies. It’s relatively inconspicuous, but just <em> having </em>the thing in her room makes Marinette antsy. She has already thought of a thousand scenarios: her mom stumbling across it when cleaning, her dad sliding it out when he's trying to look for something else. Her friends, Manon, everything—it all ends in tragedy. </p><p>But as of now, no one knows. And sometimes, that feels even worse. </p><p>That thought in and of itself is so terrifying that she can barely breathe when it crosses her mind. All she can think about is that it’s here and she’s supposed to protect it and <em> Fu— </em> god, Master Fu is <em> gone </em>and she’s not ready—and then it leads to the very obvious fact that she on her own. </p><p>
  <em> Alone.  </em>
</p><p>There is <em> no one left.  </em></p><p>Marinette's never realized what it luxury it had been for someone—even if it were just one person—to know her as Ladybug <em>and </em>Marinette. How comforting it was to have someone to turn to when she ran out of her own solutions. How easier it was to breathe with that knowledge, and how much harder it is now that it's been ripped from her grasp. </p><p>And who is there left that she <em>can </em>turn to? Not Chat Noir, because she knows the consequences all too well: white hair, dead blue eyes, the world left in rubble and drowned in water. Memories of Chat Blanc haunt her, reminding her that Chat Noir cannot know, no matter what. </p><p>“Marinette!” a voice chirps from behind her, and she spins around on her chair. </p><p>Tikki peers at her with large indigo eyes. Marinette manages to smile at her kwami. Not completely alone, she corrects herself. Because at least she has Tikki, who is there to share every burden. </p><p>Pushing herself up from her position, she heads towards the middle of her room, where the kwami is hovering and tries to pry her thoughts away from the box that seems to be beckoning her underneath her bed. <em> Do not think about it. </em>“What is it, Tikki?” </p><p>The fairy gives her a bright beam as she points a paw at Marinette’s unopened backpack. “You still have schoolwork left to finish.” </p><p>The thought crashes onto Marinette and she throws her hands into the air. “Oh my god—oh no, it’s due tomorrow and I forgot—” Flailing, she zips back to her desk, miracle box, Ladybug and any other responsibilities forgotten all at once. “There’s too much for me to finish, Tikki!” </p><p>Her kwami gives her a sympathetic nod. “It’s why I reminded you, Marinette.” </p><p>Marinette opens her mouth to say something because Tikki looks rather amused right now (and falling behind homework isn’t funny! There’s so much going on and <em> this </em>definitely needs to be the last thing for Marinette to worry about), but manages to snap her mouth shut and sit back down on her chair. It’s going to be a long night. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Tikki,” Marinette says as she climbs into bed, stifling a yawn. Her clock reads that it’s two thirty; she needs to get up at seven thirty if she wants to make it to school punctually. “Do you think it’s weird? That Hawkmoth’s been so quiet?” </p><p>Tikki frowns pensively. Marinette settles under her sheets, reaching over to flick the lights off. She’s tired, and she hopes that there will be no akuma tonight. Truth to be told, Marinette thinks she’d probably sleep through an attack if it did occur. </p><p>Finally, Tikki replies, “I don’t think it’s weird.” </p><p>Marinette, despite the exhaustion, opens her eyes and peers through the dark at the small shape nestled on her pillow. “He hasn’t attacked for so long,” she replies. “Shouldn’t he be taking advantage of all this confusion from the aftermath? Usually, he doesn’t stay this silent.” </p><p>“I don’t think it’s weird,” Tikki repeats, then elaborates, “but I think you need to be careful. I think he’s planning something. The silence isn’t the best sign.” </p><p>Marinette swallows thickly. </p><p>“But!” Tikki says again. “I know you’re prepared, and I know you can do this! Just take the time to rest. You need it. You <em> deserve </em>it.” </p><p>Despite everything, she smiles at her friend. Even though it’s not rest Marinette wants—it’s resolution; it’s the knowing that everything will be alright. It’s for somebody to understand. It’s for someone to see her—all of her. Not just Marinette and Ladybug, but the girl underneath both of them who’s terrified, suit or not. </p><p>The familiar sight of green eyes and black ears and irritating grin flashes across her vision for a moment before she shoves the thought of Chat Noir away. </p><p>“Thank you,” she tells her kwami before closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Tikki.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Marinette wakes up from a nightmare with a scream already built up in her throat. </p><p>The shrill, insistent beeping of her alarm clock is what really wakes her up; beside her, Tikki is rubbing her eyes with her little paws as she blinks blearily at Marinette. </p><p>The nightmare is still imprinted in her eyelids when Marinette blinks, but at the same time, she can’t quite place her hand on what exactly it had been about. She can still <em> feel </em> it, though, from the tightness in her chest and the way that the lingering fear refuses to let go. Just like the many times before, she coaches herself through breathing—one breath after another, until it’s normal again, and until the horror has faded to an unpleasant but dull thrum. </p><p><em> It’s okay, </em> she repeats to herself. <em> It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.  </em></p><p>“I’m okay,” Marinette whispers aloud. </p><p>The routine is surprisingly comforting. She gets dressed, very aware of the fact that she’s once again on a time crunch, stuffs her homework into her backpack and slings her purse over her shoulders after tucking a couple of cookies inside. She races down the ladder, grabs a hasty breakfast from the bakery, and kisses both of her parents goodbye. Then, papers spilling from her bag, Marinette goes flying down the sidewalk towards the direction of the school. Just like usual. </p><p>She bursts into the classroom late, and while Ms. Bustier gives her The Look, the teacher doesn’t comment on anything. Marinette slides into her seat next to Alya, giving her best friend a smile, before turning to the board. </p><p>In front of her, Adrien’s golden head looms. </p><p>Just looking at him opens yet another pit in Marinette’s stomach that drops down, down, down. It’s no longer that feeling of butterflies and the fact that her <em> whole damn face </em> feels like it’s been held to a heater for too longer—no, that would’ve been nice compared to this—but instead, all she can think about is Adrien and Kagami, and the way they had sat next to each other and the way that he looks at her and it <em> hurts. </em> Because he hadn’t ever looked at her like that, nor <em> will </em>he. </p><p>The thought makes her upset in many ways more than one, as well; she has more important things to do than pine over Adrien. That is what the previous battle had made all too clear. Boys are a thing for teenagers who <em> aren’t </em> Ladybug and the guardian of the miracle box. Marinette doesn’t have that luxury anymore, so, bitterly, she thinks that perhaps it was best that Adrien likes Kagami and Kagami likes Adrien.</p><p><br/>(Not that it hurts any less.) </p><p>It’s not any of their fault but her own. Just another aspect of her life that she’s had absolutely no control over; another way she’s failed. Because why <em> would </em>Adrien like her, a girl who could barely get out one coherent sentence around him? And it makes sense, because Kagami is pretty and strong and kind and a wonderful person, and Marinette is… </p><p>Marinette is the one who messed up in going to Master Fu with her costume still on, Marinette is the one who hadn’t paid attention to what was happening with Chloe and gotten her akumatized into Miracle Queen. Marinette is the reason why Chat Noir had been hurt so many times. </p><p>And Adrien doesn’t deserve that. </p><p>She lets out a shaky exhale and tries to focus her attention back on the board. Now is not the time. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Marinette tries to be responsible. She knows she <em> has to </em>now, with the miracle box in her possession and with Hawkmoth’s ever-present shadow seeming to expand its scope. Master Fu’s last act had been to make her the guardian, and although Marinette knows that she’ll never be half the guardian he ways, she’s determined to do it right. And that leaves no room for slip-ups. </p><p>Still, the moment Lila opens her mouth, her temper flares. </p><p>Marinette knows that it’s because she’s already irritable. Little sleep combined with nightmares and now Lila’s voice proves an awful remedy for a headache, which is beginning to brew in the back of her head. </p><p>She doesn’t look back at Lila, and she thinks that if she does, it’ll be the end of her very precarious leash on her self control and she’ll actually punch the girl. Straight into next week. Out of Paris. There’s nothing more that Marinette wants to do. She wants to transform, grab Lila and toss her out of Paris where she can never harm her or anyone around her. </p><p>But she doesn’t. As the rest of the class crowds around Lila to hear about yet another one of her expeditions to yet another country, Marinette makes her way towards the door. She’s sick of it (just <em> why </em>did she think it would be better? Even after the whole admission of having a disease that made her compulsively lie, everyone still chooses Lila), and she’s exhausted, and her self-control feels like it’s hit an all time low. </p><p>Marinette slips out of the classroom, surprisingly unnoticed. She’s about to make her way to the locker rooms when someone clears their throat. </p><p>She jumps, then turns around to see the boy leaning against the wall. </p><p>Adrien looks at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Hey,” he says slowly, eyes scanning her. “Are you alright?” </p><p>Marinette opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. This time, though, the choking up has nothing to do with the fact that he’s Adrien Agreste, or that she’s had a huge crush on him for months, or anything else. Seeing him, hearing that question, makes it feel painfully obvious. <em> I’m not alright.  </em></p><p>
  <em> But I have to be.  </em>
</p><p>Marinette swallows. “Yes,” she replies. “Why?” </p><p>She doesn’t sound like a stuttering, awkward mess like she was every single time, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel like any improvement. In fact, it seems like something’s <em> off. </em> She still likes him, likes the way his hair looks and his eyes shine and the concerned look on his face, and he <em> cares </em> and <em> noticed </em>that she wasn’t fine, but… </p><p>“It’s just—” Adrien gestures towards the classroom. “I know what she did to you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. It makes me mad seeing her get away with this too. And… everything else.” He peers at her, slightly cautious. “You seemed kind of down today, and I just wanted to know if you were fine. With Hawkmoth and all, you know?”</p><p><em> Oh, I know, trust me. </em>Marinette gives him a smile. “I’m fine,” she reassures him. “I really am.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>She is not fine. </p><p>The day at school drags by, and Marinette can already <em> feel </em>herself growing more and more tired. She doesn’t speak much to people, but by the end of the day, Lila has spun out yet another story of a “surprise visit” from Ladybug that has enraptured all of her friends too much for them to notice if something’s off about Marinette. Adrien gives her another concerned look when she leaves, and perhaps two weeks ago, Marinette would’ve been overjoyed by that. But now, the feeling is gone. </p><p>The afternoon drags on, alone and quiet. Tikki takes a nap as Marinette does her schoolwork, thankful for the momentary distraction from the mess going inside her head. She eats dinner with her parents, feeling slightly more cheerful (perhaps had Maman had noticed something off about her, because she’s made Marinette’s favourite—Shanghai stir fry). Food always cheers her up. </p><p>When she retreats back to her room with cookies for Tikki, her phone is buzzing on her desk. Marinette squints at it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Alya, 7:18PM</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>yo chat noir was at a CHOCOLATE SHOP fhSJDHFhfSJDKfh bruh do u think he has a girlfriend? i just saw him come out with this fancy little bag of chocolates oh mY GOD </em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Tikki, cookies, and Hawkmoth temporarily forgotten, Marinette gawks at the text. Chat, chocolate? Chat Noir didn’t like chocolate (“chips are the best comfort food, My Lady!”), so it had to be for someone else. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Alya, 7:19PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>uM wait its prob for ladybug right??? omg boy making MOVES </em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Marinette chokes. “Tikki,” she calls, and her kwami floats up to her side. “Chat Noir was just spotting getting <em> chocolates </em>for someone.” </p><p>Tikki gives a little squeak of laughter. “Probably you, Ladybug,” she teases. </p><p>Marinette frowns. “I don’t know,” she replies pensively. “I mean, yeah, we have a patrol later on, but… something’s been weird with him. I don’t know. He’s been kind of quiet, and he hasn’t been as pushy, and… broody?” She stares at her kwami. “Chat Noir’s been <em> broody, </em>I think.” </p><p>“Maybe he’s going through something,” Tikki suggests. </p><p>Marinette picks up her phone to respond to Alya. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Marinette, 7:21PM</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>You’re stalking him again </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Marinette, 7:21PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Wouldn’t put it past chat to buy the chocolate for himself tbh </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Alya, 7:21PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>girl no one buys chocolate for themself and puts it in a pink gift bag </em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Marinette, 7:22PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Chat would </em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Alya, 7:22PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>lmAOOOOOOOO </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tikki, reading the conversation over her shoulder, lets out another peel of laughter. She looks like she’s about to say something, but before she can, the kwami lets out a little squeak of surprise and abruptly zooms into Marinette’s purse without warning. Looking up from her phone to find the source of Tikki’s escape, she catches sight of a flash of black across her window before there’s a <em> thump </em>on the roof. </p><p>Marinette freezes. There’s footsteps above her, and for a moment, her heart’s sped up and she thinks <em> akuma akuma akuma </em>before Tikki’s head emerges from her purse. </p><p>“It’s Chat,” her kwami whispers. “Go up.” </p><p>Marinette relaxes, then frowns. Chat? Alya had just seen him getting chocolates—what is he doing <em> here?  </em></p><p>Still, it’s Chat, and whether or not she’s Ladybug or not, Marinette supposes Chat is decent company. Or good company. Or great company. Company she wouldn’t turn down. Company that’s awfully good at distracting her from whatever’s going on, and she needs that. </p><p>Shoving the thoughts out of her head, she pushes open the skylight. Tikki’s right; Chat Noir is leaning on the railing, tail swishing behind him and staring at the cityscape silhouetted against the dark. He turns around when Marinette climbs onto the balcony. </p><p>Things between them have smoothed out. Marinette still feels a tinge of embarrassment when she sees him in her civilian form because it always reminds her of that awful confession of love that had led her father to being akumatized. The whole thing had been an act, but it’s not like Chat knows. Still, he’s treated her well despite that, and even as Marinette, she supposes she can count them friends. </p><p>“Marinette,” he greets with his usual large grin. She notices the pink bag swaying from the tips of two fingers. </p><p>“Chat,” she echoes back. “What are you doing here?” </p><p>He tilts his head. There’s always something undeniably feline about him in his costume, from the way he moves with inhuman grace that even Ladybug isn’t capable of, to the tilt of his head. His smiles, although usually teasing, can turn sharp, more like a barring of teeth than… a smile. All these little bits are still endearing, though, and it takes all of Marinette’s self control not to say anything that would give her identity away. </p><p>He perches on the railing. “Is there anything wrong with coming to see you?” he asks with a tone of faux innocence. </p><p>“No,” she decides. “I would visit me too.” </p><p>Chat throws his head back and laughs, and she eyes him. He doesn’t know she’s Ladybug, but she thinks that he’s never quite been <em> this </em>at ease with her, as Marinette. Just as she’s sorting the thought out, he extends his arm towards her, the pink bag dangling between his fingers.</p><p>“Here,” Chat says. “Chocolate.” </p><p>Marinette gawks at him. “Chocolate.” </p><p>“Chocolate.” </p><p>For a moment, she thinks of Alya’s texts and—<em> do you think he has a girlfriend— </em>flashes through her mind and Marinette’s sure her face has turned color. And to her absolute chagrin, Chat notices. </p><p>“Oh, no,” she hears him say. “Ah, Marinette, I didn’t mean it—I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that, um, I bought some for myself and I got some for Ladybug as well and I thought of you as well and with the whole Hawkmoth ordeal I’ve wanted to make sure everyone’s fine and I—” </p><p>Marinette takes the bag from his clawed fingers and shushes him with a laugh. “It’s fine,” she reassures. When Chat still looks unconvinced, the repeats, “I mean it. Besides, I’ve already been informed—Alya saw you coming out of the chocolate shop with that.” </p><p>His mouth shapes an <em> O, </em>then he gives a relieved huff. “Of course Alya did.” </p><p>Marinette takes out the box of chocolates from the bag. It’s strawberry filled, and she has to stop herself from squealing in delight. “She says she’s Ladybug’s number one fan, but you’re probably not close behind.” </p><p>Chat gives her his signature smile. “What can I say? I’m <em> purr </em>fect.” </p><p>“That’s probably the most overused pun <em> ever </em> in your vocabulary, and you either need to find something better or stop altogether.” </p><p>“Un<em> fur </em>tunate.” </p><p>Marinette groans and opts for opening the chocolates instead of humouring Chat. </p><p>He’s gotten her chocolates before—gotten Ladybug chocolates. A couple months ago, Chat managed to find out that her favourite flavour was strawberry and that chocolates were a stress reliever whenever she was overwhelmed, so he often showed up to patrol holding chocolates. Perhaps it’s just a coincidence that this is the flavour he’s bought; whatever the reason is, she eats one piece and closes her eyes happily. “So good.”</p><p>Chat, still sitting on the railing, grins. “Of course it is. I’m a man of taste.” </p><p>“Man,” Marinette teases, unable to help herself, “You’re hardly a man, Chat.” </p><p>He shoots her an injured look, but it’s lost when he flexes an arm. “You wound me, Princess.” </p><p>Marinette leans forward as she pops another chocolate into her mouth. “But am I wrong, Chat Noir?” </p><p>His eyes twinkle. “Perhaps you’re right. But you know my identity must remain secret. You’ll never know how old I am.” </p><p>Marinette rears back at that. “Of course,” she says immediately. “I’m not—I’m not asking you to reveal yourself, you do know that, right?” </p><p>Chat raises his hands. “I’m not accusing you of anything, Princess.” </p><p>She stares at him for a couple more seconds before eating another piece of chocolate (last one, Marinette thinks). “I would never ask for your identity. It’s too dangerous.” </p><p>His expression flickers for the briefest moment before reverting back to normal, and Marinette wonders if it’s just a trick of the light. Whatever the reason, he shoots her another smile—this one pacifying, the peacemaking look that’s strangely familiar—why does it look familiar, but not familiar in a way that it’s <em> Chat?  </em></p><p>He doesn’t give her much time to dwell on it, though, because instead, he leans forward on the railing, forearms draped over the side. He doesn’t look at her, but instead asks, “Are you okay?” </p><p>Marinette gawks at the question. “Come again?” </p><p>Chat turns to face her this time. “Are you okay?” he repeats. </p><p>It’s a very simple question. There are two answers that Marinette can think of, and only one answer she can give. </p><p>It feels like deja vu. Just this afternoon, Adrien had asked the same thing, and she had given him that answer—a perfectly acceptable, reasonable answer that she was <em> supposed </em>to give him. It’s the same answer she can give Chat, because even though he’s her partner (right now, Marinette reminds herself, he isn’t even her partner. She’s not Ladybug; just Marinette), she can’t let him know. She can’t afford to be weak in front of Chat, not when they’re already so broken. </p><p>“Why?” Marinette asks instead of answering. </p><p>Chat’s eyes—eyes that are green not because of his costume, which she now knows—seem to pierce into her. “Are you okay?” he repeats for the third time. </p><p>Marinette opens her mouth. <em> Yes, </em>she tries to say. </p><p>It comes out as a quiet, shaky, broken, “No.” </p><p>Then the sobs hit, full force. A second before, Marinette is alright—albeit gripping her bag of chocolates a little too tight—and a moment later, she barely manages to set the bag down before her head is in her hands and the waterworks are running without any sign of stopping. </p><p>It’s Chat Noir, she reminds herself again. A hesitant, clawed hand lays itself down on her shoulder, cautious at first, before Chat is rubbing soothing circles down her back. </p><p>Ladybug cannot risk being weak in front of Chat. But maybe, just maybe, Marinette can. </p><p>At least, she hopes so. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chat Noir realizes that Marinette is a much different person in front of him than in front of Adrien Agreste. </p><p>And he likes her—the real her—even more.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>saw a tumblr post about how the day marinette teases adrien is the day he falls in love with her, so… voila? marinette being marinette and adrien realizing that wow, this girl is actually amazing :D altho mari kinda angsty in this hfjkSLDKfhj and so is everyone's fav sunshine boy but i PROMISE things will uH hopefully get better ;) </p><p>some more angst and bickering and marichat!! thank u everyone for the support ahh it means a lot :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marinette cries until the sleeve paws of her hoodie are completely soaked through, and the whole time, Chat pats her on the back and hopes that he’s not making it awkward as he rubs (what he hopes are) soothing circles. The words <em> why are you crying </em> rest on the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t let himself say them. It’s obvious that Marinette’s struggling with <em> something, </em>although he cannot pinpoint just what it is. </p><p>Really, he isn’t sure if he’s more relieved about the admission or slightly hurt. Or maybe both. Because he’d asked Marinette the same question as Adrien, back at school, and she told him nothing was wrong. Although she isn’t a convincing liar in the least, it’s still a lie, and Adrien Agreste is supposed to be more her friend than Chat Noir. So why is she telling Chat, of all people? It’s irrational to get upset because he’s Adrien Agreste <em> and </em>Chat Noir, but… </p><p>The box of chocolates sits on the ground. He hadn’t been sure what flavour Marinette liked, but since Ladybug thought highly of strawberry (and pink in general, Chat thinks with a fond smile) so he got strawberry. Luckily, Marinette had enjoyed it too. </p><p>Which is exactly why he picks up a piece of chocolate from the box and offers it to her. </p><p>Marinette sniffles into her sleeves again, though the tears seemed to have temporarily halted. “Here,” Chat offers. He’s <em> definitely </em>awkward.  </p><p>She moves her sleeves from her eyes enough so she can look at him, but not so much that Chat can see her expression underneath. “I ate too many already,” she exclaims tearfully. “I’m going to be fat.” </p><p>“Chocolates are worth being fat for,” Chat replies even though he <em> really </em>doesn’t like chocolate, but instead of cheering her up, Marinette bursts into a fresh bout of tears. </p><p><em> Shit, wrong thing to say, </em>he chides himself mentally, now beginning to panic a bit. “You’re—you’re not fat,” he tries to rectify, “I mean, another chocolate isn’t going to make you fat either, and uh—Marinette? Um, I’ll just—” </p><p>He stuffs the chocolate in his mouth instead. </p><p>Chat’s first thought is that it’s chocolate and he doesn’t like chocolate and therefore he dislikes the taste, but then he bites into it and discovers that the strawberry flavour is absolutely <em> terrible. </em>It’s one bad thing stacked onto another, and it takes all of his willpower to swallow it instead of spitting it out. He gags. </p><p>Underneath her sleeves, Marinette lets out a choking sort of noise that’s somewhere between a cough and a laugh. </p><p>He ducks down and tries to peer at her face from underneath. “Uh, Marinette? Are you okay?” </p><p>The sound happens again, and this time, she lowers her sleeves enough so that he can see the top half of her face. “Haven’t you asked that three times already?” </p><p>Chat opens his mouth to apologize before he realizes that her tone isn’t scolding but teasing—even if her eyes are still watery and her throat is now hoarse—and so he heaves a loud sigh. “I’ll take it that you’re feeling better.” </p><p>“Yeah, watching you eat chocolate does make me feel better.” She sets her hands down completely, although not before she wipes her face with her arms. Marinette’s eyes are red now, face tear streaked, but a smirk is forming on her face. She looks suspiciously familiar to someone else he knows. “You <em> hate </em>chocolate. If all I had to do was cry to get you to eat it, I should do it more.” </p><p>Chat lets out a snort. “You don’t need to cry to get me to eat it, My Lady. All you have to do is ask.” </p><p>From the way Marinette freezes, he knows he’s said something wrong. It takes Chat a couple of moments to catch his mistake, and he claps his hands over his mouth, very much horrified with himself. “Marinette,” he stammers, chagrinned. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know—I don’t know why I called you that. I think you reminded me of Ladybug for a moment.” </p><p>He pauses. Marinette’s still looking at him strangely. “But how do you know I hate chocolate?” </p><p>“You, uh, mentioned it last time when you came over for dinner.” She shifts her weight on her feet, playing with her fingers nervously. </p><p>Ah, that topic. Chat hastily backs away from it. “Well!” he exclaims, a bit too loudly. “Now that you’ve cried it all out, you <em> are </em>feeling better, right?” </p><p>“Huh?” she looks up at him, blue eyes much clearer than before. “Well, I guess?” </p><p>Chat grins at her. “Care for a swing around the city, then?” <br/><br/></p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not a shy girl, and that’s the strangest take Chat gets from their conversations. Although he knows that Marinette isn’t <em> actually </em>as shy as she seems, it’s strange because so many of his conversations (or if they even have conversations; it’s gotten better, but that’s only been a recent development) with her as Adrien have ended with mumbling and her averting her eyes. It’s a side of her that he hasn’t seen at school, nor the last time he had dinner with her family. This girl in front of him is the one he catches glimpses of, but has never experienced for himself: she’s confident, she’s sharp-witted, and brave. </p><p>After all, not many people can take gallivanting across rooftops with a retractable pole as well as Marinette currently is. </p><p>She’s clinging onto his shoulders, although her grip isn’t uncomfortably tight—in fact, it’s just right. She doesn’t scream like most people in the moments where they fall downwards, and when Chat looks down at her, she seems perfectly at ease. </p><p>“You’re taking this pretty well!” he calls, voice carried away by the roaring wind in their ears. </p><p>Marinette squints at him. “Come again?” she yells back. </p><p>“You’re taking this well!” Chat repeats, much louder this time. “Are you not scared?” </p><p>“No! This is fun!” </p><p>A sort-of laugh bubbles to his throat, and Chat continues with the destination in sight—the Eiffel Tower looms close by in the distance. Marinette has spotted it as well, and she’s watching with an unreadable expression on her face. </p><p>In full honesty, Chat doesn’t know why he’s brought her here. It’s his and Ladybug’s spot, and while he’s sure Ladybug won’t mind the least bit, Marinette’s his friend as well, and it seems fitting. It brings him a bit of comfort to know that while there’s so many things he can’t do as Adrien, he can, at least, do them as Chat. It seems as if cheering Marinette up is one of them. </p><p>They reach the Eiffel Tower shortly. A group of people wave as they swing by, but soon after, he’s set Marinette down on one of the small platforms and they’re alone once more. </p><p>She balances on her feet easily, and Chat raises an eyebrow at her. From his experience, most people have trouble standing upright after a journey like that. “You’re not scared of heights.” A matter-of-fact statement rather than a question. </p><p>Marinette shrugs. “There are much scarier things,” she replies. </p><p>She doesn’t elaborate on what she means by that. Chat doesn’t push, and Marinette takes her seat next to him, with her legs dangling off the side. She leans back to look at him. “So, Chat Noir,” she says, and there’s a tone of teasing in her voice. He finds himself smiling. This Marinette—it’s unfamiliar and familiar at the same time, and this side of her is so… <em> her. </em>“Why did you bring me here?” </p><p>“I figured you would enjoy my sparkling company,” he replies. </p><p>She lets out a snort. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around?” </p><p>“<em> Pawsitive.”  </em></p><p>She shoves his shoulder—hard enough to push him a little bit away from her, but not enough for him to lose his balance. “Sparkling company, you say?” </p><p>“Hey! I’d have you know that I’m in very high demand.” </p><p>Marinette raises an eyebrow. “Then I wouldn’t want to waste your time. I take that as my cue to leave.” </p><p>It coaxes another laugh at him, and Chat marvels at the girl in front of him. Apart from the slight puffiness of her eyes, there’s no other trace of tears, or that show of vulnerability. She looks completely fine, she sounds completely fine, and… </p><p>The words slip out before he can stop them. “Do you feel better now?” </p><p>Marinette blinks at him. It’s a habit, he notices, for her to stare in a speechless sort of manner to a question she doesn’t know how to respond to like she’s completely frozen. A couple seconds later, she unpetrifies herself and nods. “I am, actually. Really. It’s… there’s been a lot going on and I haven’t really had time to think about it all, but I really needed that. The cry and the chocolates and this. Thank you.” </p><p>He preens a little. “Anything for you, Princess.” </p><p>She gives him another look, and Chat immediately tenses up. “I mean—I don’t—” </p><p>“I know,” Marinette laughs. “Look, that’s all behind us now. I’m glad we’re friends. I don’t expect anything more from you.” </p><p>He grins back sheepishly. “Sorry.”</p><p>“No, I’m the one who should be sorry.” Marinette leans forward on her elbows propped on her thighs, sticking her head over the ledge to look at the ground. “That whole thing…” She lets out a laugh, slightly high pitched. “Wow. What an experience.” </p><p>He laughs along with her, though his heart isn’t entirely in the action. A couple moments of silence later and Chat peers at Marinette again. She holds her chin in her hands, and she’s staring contemplatively off into the distance. For a couple moments, he debates the words before he ventures out. “Do you want to… talk about what’s bothering you?” </p><p>Marinette looks at him and once again, her surprised, blank silence ensures. Slowly, she opens her mouth, closes it, then shakes her head. </p><p>Chat swears that he can <em> feel </em>his heart fall. As if she can see her crestfallen expression, Marinette lets out a laugh, but it’s more reassuring than teasing, and lays a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Chat,” she says, eyes boring into his. They’re a very pretty blue. “It’s not your fault.” </p><p>“It’s not me, it’s you,” he jokes. </p><p>Marinette’s lips curve into a smile. “It’s not that,” she replies. “I’m glad you asked. It’s just… maybe someday. But not right now. You’ve already helped tons, and I appreciate that.” </p><p>Chat nods hesitantly. He’s gotten much more progress with her than he has as Adrien, anyway, and he’s happy that he can cheer her up as his alter-ego. “My pleasure.” </p><p>Marinette smiles again, but this time, it’s more of a beam, and gone is the sadness and worry and tears, because she looks so cheerful that he can’t help but smile back. It’s contagious, wonderfully so. “You still haven’t told me why you brought me here.” </p><p>“I did.” </p><p>“Your sparkling company aside,” she replies with a roll of her eyes. </p><p>Chat winks at her. “Maybe I’ll tell you next time.” </p><p>“Who says I want there to be a next time?” </p><p>He feigns a gasp of hurt. “You wound me, Princess.” </p><p>She gives him a wicked grin. “I was aiming for it.” </p><p>They exchange banter for a while longer, each sentence more lighthearted than the last, and Chat loses track of time. It’s only when Marinette takes out her own phone to check the time that he sees it flash across the screen. </p><p>Nine fifty-two. Chat gapes at the time for a couple seconds, the situation sinking in, before he’s scrambled to his feet. “I’m late,” he exclaims. </p><p>Marinette glances up. “Late?” she echoes. </p><p>“Yeah.” Chat fishes out his baton, but there are no messages from Ladybug. “Shit, I told Ladybug I’d meet her at the Louvre at nine thirty, and it’s been twenty two minutes.” He tugs at his hair. “Ugh, she was <em> just </em>lecturing me about being on time the other day and—” He looks at her. “I’ll take you home now. Sorry I have to cut this short.” </p><p>Marinette gets to her feet. “That’s fine,” she reassures and offers him a smile. “I’m sure Ladybug will understand.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Chat Noir manages to drop Marinette home in four minutes, a record time, before he’s bounding across the streets of Paris again. He arrives at their meeting spot as the clock hints ten o’five, but when he settles down on the roof of a nearby building, Ladybug is nowhere to be seen. He waits for a while, sending her a text, but she doesn’t show. </p><p>It’s nearly five minutes later that he spots the familiar polka-dotted uniform swinging across the rooftops. She drops down next to him gracefully. </p><p>“Ladybug!” Chat greets, moving towards her immediately, then grins. “Who was telling me about being on time?” </p><p>She scowls at him. “I had something come up. Besides, were <em> you </em>on time?”</p><p><br/>He holds up his hands in faux surrender. “Whoops?” </p><p>Ladybug rolls her eyes at him, albeit goodnaturedly. “Whoops indeed. Who were you getting chocolates for, by the way?” </p><p>Chat’s eyes widen. She’s looking at him thoughtfully, bluebell eyes gleaming in the streetlight, and he can’t tell what she’s thinking. For some reason, he feels like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which is ridiculous because he’d gotten chocolates for Marinette out of goodwill and—Ladybug, jealous? That doesn’t make sense—<em> and— </em></p><p>“How do you know?” is what comes out. </p><p>Ladybug sighs. “Ladyblog.” </p><p>… makes sense. Chat shakes his head. “Of course. Alya posted it. Anyway, a friend of mine was feeling down, so I got her chocolate.” He winks at her. “I’ll get you some next time, My Lady. Never knew you were following my movements via the Ladyblog, but I’ll gladly get you whatever you want.” </p><p>She sniffs. “I don’t need your pity chocolate.” </p><p>“Ah, jealous?” </p><p>She shoves his shoulder playfully. “I just hope you aren’t getting another lady my favourite chocolates, Kitty.” </p><p>It’s meant as a joke and Chat can see very clearly that she means it as a joke, but he can’t help but swallow, a little nervous. Because he had done exactly that, and Ladybug doesn’t know and he doesn’t plan on telling her. Still, he plays it off with a smile. “I don’t have any other lady but you, Bugaboo.” </p><p>Ladybug giggles at that—the world must be ending today, because she’s always told him off for calling him Bugaboo—and Chat stares at her in amazement. He’s still gawking at her when she turns on her heel to head off, and it’s only when she turns back, raising an eyebrow at him, that he scrambles after her. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Adrien is woken up by his kwami shouting mercilessly in his ear, so he starts off his morning cranky and rendered half-deaf. </p><p>It’s because his actual alarm doesn’t go off so he’s left scrambling for his clothing, attempting to fix his hair, before dashing out the door. By the time he arrives at school, he’s late for once. (While Chat Noir is sometimes late (which is because Adrien can’t get out of his activities), Adrien is punctual.) Mme. Bustier looks at him but doesn’t comment as he dashes into his seat, and he can’t help but sneak a glance behind him at Marinette. </p><p>She’s sitting with her chin cupped in her hands, staring intently at the board. She doesn’t acknowledge him, and Adrien almost wants to say something about the day before but snaps his mouth shut. It’s hard to balance sometimes between Adrien and Chat, so he reminds himself that although he feels like the same person underneath, Marinette won’t be treating the two of them like so. </p><p>The thought almost makes him sad. </p><p>So, throughout the whole class, Adrien is hyper-aware of Marinette. He’s only half-paying attention to the lesson, and every small noise she makes seems to be strangely amplified. He hears her whispering to Alya, hears her laugh something, hears the crinkle of her papers as she flips the page. It’s <em> so hard </em>not to turn back and look at her and yell that he’s Chat Noir and that he’d been with her at the Eiffel Tower yesterday. But Adrien resists. </p><p>Lunch break rolls around, and he realizes that he’s barely paid any attention in the whole morning. He watches as Alya drags Marinette off, the latter laughing about something her friend said (she has a pretty laugh, Adrien thinks to himself, before mentally slapping his face. This is Marinette. His friend, and just that). She seems to be in a much better mood, and a very selfish part of him hopes that it’s because of his visit yesterday. The thought that he’s able to cheer her up cheers <em> him </em>up as well. </p><p>Most of the class has, inevitably, clumped around Lila (apart from Chloe and Sabrina, who both left the room as soon as class ended). It’s a pattern and a routine, now. Everyday, Lila has new stories to tell the class about her trips to Achoo, her friendship with Ladybug, and how she’s sold her house for charity. Adrien listens in to make sure she doesn’t say something too absurd; Lila’s been cautious not to say anything about Marinette in front of him, apparently having taken his warning seriously. Most of the stuff that comes out her mouth is relatively harmless nowadays, and Adrien tells himself that the moment it turns malevolent, he’ll step in. Beside him, Nino, who had been previously scrolling through his phone, taps his shoulder. </p><p>“Chat Noir!” he hears her exclaim before he can turn to Nino, and Adrien’s head snaps in her direction at the mention of his alter-ego. Lila tugs on her hair with a faux shy smile plastered all over her face. “He actually came to visit yesterday. He got me—oh, this is embarrassing to say here and I’m not sure if I should—but he got me chocolates.” </p><p>Adrien spits out his water. </p><p>Inside his coat pocket, he can hear Plagg’s indignant, muffled protest that is definitely too loud to be conspicuous, and Adrien thumps on his chest in an attempt to shut his kwami up. The group that has gathered around Lila turns their attention to him.</p><p>“Dude, are you okay?” Nino’s asking as Adrien continues to cough. His friend starts patting him on the back. </p><p>A little bit embarrassed at the water on the desk in front of him and how everyone’s staring, Adrien waves them off. “Water went down wrong pipe,” he wheezes out through gasps, and shakes his head. “I’m okay. Don’t mind me.” </p><p>Rose gives him a worried little frown before they all turn back to Lila and her story about Chat Noir. Despite his coughing and how his throat is still burning, Adrien leans in to listen, now rather indignant. Chat Noir brought <em> her </em> the chocolates? The chocolates were for Marinette, and it was worse listening to the lie because it was <em> him— </em></p><p>“Isn’t Chat Noir in love with Ladybug?” Juleka has the sense to ask. Adrien looks at her; there’s a skeptical expression on her face, which he has to applaud her for. At least <em> one </em>person is thinking for themselves. </p><p>“Actually,” LIla was cupping her hands over her mouth, as if to make it a secret. The group around her leans in. </p><p>Even if Adrien hadn’t had sensitive hearing, he still would’ve heard her words. “Ladybug was telling me the other day,” Lila whispered—how could she whisper so <em> loudly? </em>It was ridiculous. “You can’t spread this, but she’s actually seeing someone.” </p><p>Adrien bristled. He can feel Plagg squirming in his shirt pocket, obviously indignant. </p><p>“And,” Lila continues with no knowledge that Chat Noir is sitting a couple of feet away from her, “Chat’s given up on her. They’re still good friends, but Ladybug actually introduced me to him, and…” She covers her mouth and giggles and Adrien thinks that he throws up a little in his mouth. “I told him that I don’t want to do anything serious yet. Just stay friends for a while. But he’s so sneaky, always bringing me chocolates. He even knows what my favourite flavour is!” She gives a dreamy sigh. “I just hope it won’t get in the way of his superhero duties.” </p><p>At this point, Adrien figures that, no matter how nauseous he feels, he has to applaud her for the A+ acting. Because she actually looks and sounds like it’s true, and while it <em> is </em>absurd, perhaps he might’ve been one of the crowd gathered around her if he hadn’t stumbled across the truth like he did. </p><p>Either way, while there’s only so much he can say, he’s not about to let Lila make up such stories about Ladybug or him. </p><p>“That’s so cool,” Adrien calls from the other side of the aisle, and Lila turns to look at him. “What’s Chat like? I’ve always wanted to meet him and Ladybug, but…I guess I’m not important enough. Do you think you could ever set me up as a meeting? I’m a really big fan of Ladybug, you know.”</p><p>Lila meets his gaze. He’s not sure if she can hear the challenge in his voice because she knows that <em> he </em> knows that she’s lying. Either way, she masks it up perfectly, giving him a pleasant smile. “I’ll ask Ladybug,” she replies. “You know, she’s rather sensitive about the civilians she meets in her life, but I’ll <em> definitely </em>put in a word for you, Adrien.” </p><p>Adrien tries to smile back at her, mind already churning through the ways he can go with this. He can’t expose her right now without exposing himself, but this—this is a step too far and he’s not sure if he’s more offended for Ladybug, himself, or Marinette. </p><p>As if on cue, the door to the classroom swings open again and Marinette and Alya come inside once more. Marinette is munching on something from her parent’s bakery (it looks <em> divine, </em>and Adrien’s mouth waters at the sight of it), and while her eyes lift to Lila, they don’t linger. Alya steers her to her desk just as Alix calls out, “Alya, Chat Noir bought chocolates for Lila!”</p><p>Alya’s face immediately lights up, although Adrien barely pays any attention to her—he’s staring at Marinette, who’s unable to hide her shock. She gawks openly at Lila for a couple of seconds before she ducks her head and sits down in her seat. </p><p>Adrien turns around to look at her as Alya falls prey to another one of Lila’s lies. </p><p>“She’s not telling the truth, is she?” he asks Marinette. </p><p>She looks at Adrien for a couple seconds—it’s that blank look she gives when she’s confused—before nodding. “I don’t think Chat Noir is very fond of her to the point of bringing her chocolates,” she replies. There’s tension all over her, and despite the calm control in her voice, Adrien can tell that Marinette is wound up and angry about the lie. “Although I suppose the chocolates he bought were for Ladybug. He doesn’t seem like he’s giving up on her anytime soon. Lila really should’ve come up with a better story.” </p><p>Adrien finds himself smiling a bit before he catches it, but the acknowledgement soon turns to confusion. Why isn’t Marinette telling the truth? She definitely knows it, but here she is, with a careful expression of nonchalance placed on her face when <em> she </em>should be the one telling the story in Lila’s place about the (rather disgusting) strawberry flavoured chocolates, instead of the hazelnut one’s Lila somehow received. He peers at her. “You think the chocolates were for Ladybug?” </p><p>Marinette nods. “Who else would they be for?” </p><p>She’s almost as good of a liar as Lila is. Adrien knows in his heart that Marinette is right; exposing her friendship with Chat would put her in potential danger, but she doesn’t trust him—she doesn’t trust <em>Adrien</em> with the knowledge—and the reminder hurts. It’s irrational, he knows, because after all, why would she? </p><p>“You’re right,” he says, then turns back to his desk. “Yeah, they were probably for Ladybug.” </p><p>She hums her acknowledgement—this cautious, reserved girl is nothing like the one he had talked with on top of the Eiffel Tower—but Adrien tells himself not to meddle even as the hurt settles as a bitter pit in his stomach. After all, Adrien Agreste or Chat Noir—it’s not as if he’ll be enough no matter which mask he wears. </p><p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The duties Marinette Dupain-Cheng has are sometimes just as overwhelming as the ones Ladybug has, but thankfully, a certain black cat is there to help with both of them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oops corona rly be screwing with my schedule so this is up kinda late but!! lots of marichat :D enjoy<br/>thanks again for all the lovely feedback :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Marinette loses count of the amount of times she considers transforming into Ladybug in front of the whole class, grabbing Lila, and throwing her out of the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time she considers it (that day, of course; it’s a constant wish plaguing her every time the girl so much as opens her mouth) is when she walks into the classroom and she hears her best friend shout across the room that Chat Noir brought Lila chocolates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette sees red at that moment. Red, Ladybug red, and she thinks that this is the last straw and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>ought to transform into Ladybug and put </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>in their place—but then she sees Adrien and the wave of anger subsides into helplessness. She can’t do anything. Can’t say anything. Not unless she wants the whole class to turn on her yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>again </span>
  </em>
  <span>and look like an idiot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chat Noir brought </span>
  </em>
  <span>me </span>
  <em>
    <span>the chocolates, not Ladybug—</span>
  </em>
  <span>nobody would believe it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It gets worse, though, because the moment she sits down and grabs her earbuds to tune Lila out, Adrien turns around in his seat to look at her and asks her if Lila is lying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole conversation is both acutely, sharply focussed and blurred at the same time. Marinette hears his questions; hears her own responses, but she doesn’t feel as if she’s in control of her own words. She can’t tell what Adrien’s expression means either, but it’s only when he turns away that she releases the breath she’s been holding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In hindsight, lying to him feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s not that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>that she is the one who got the chocolates, not Ladybug as she played it, but lying to Adrien, the only one who knows about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lila’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>lies… it’s hypocrisy at its finest, and the guilt gnaws miserably at Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shoves in her earbuds a little too hard for the rest of the break, determined to block out every word and sound from the other half of the class. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Home isn’t any better, isn’t any worse (but at least there’s no Lila). The news is on in a soft, droning noise of the news in the background like usual, to make sure she’d be aware of any akuma attacks, and Marinette drills through her homework as quick as possible, wanting to finish everything so she can have the rest of the evening free. There’s still fashion projects piled up in her notebook, fabric askew in her room. On the board next to her bed, the pictures of Adrien are still there, but every time Marinette looks at them, it’s followed by a surge of guilt and confusion that she can’t pinpoint. It’s not as if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>like Adrien anymore, because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>does, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she knows she still does, but there’s a mix of many other factors. Kagami is one of them, but the others hinge largely on the fact that she feels more acutely aware of how much she’s lying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette knows that it’s inevitable, because now that she’s the guardian, secrets are one thing she </span>
  <em>
    <span>must </span>
  </em>
  <span>keep, even more than before. But secrets come with lies, and they no longer feel like white lies like they had been in the beginning. It’s not the excuses of </span>
  <em>
    <span>my dog ate my homework and I’m late for school </span>
  </em>
  <span>(“Marinette, you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a dog”) or </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, maman, I need a new bag again, I lost the old one—</span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s much more than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette looks towards the pictures once again, then abandons her schoolwork and begins taking all the singular shots of Adrien down one by one. A minute or so later, she ends with a pile of them in her hands, the top picture of Adrien staring right at her with bright green eyes and a smile on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks at him for a couple seconds more, heart skipping a beat, before Marinette stuffs all the pictures of Adrien into her drawer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s near impossible to focus on anything. Tikki wakes up from her nap a little while later, and a bit of her positivity rubs onto Marinette in time to cheer her up for dinner, but it still doesn’t erase the fact that the rest of her day has, really, sucked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it seems as if, since the last battle with Hawkmoth, everything has pretty much sucked, so Marinette thinks that it’s not that surprising anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour or so after dinner, Marinette finds herself on the skylight again, holding the pack of chocolates that Chat Noir bought for her the day before. There’s still quite a bit left, and despite everything that’s been happening, thinking of her partner brings a warm feeling into her as she opens them again. She’ll really have to find a way to do something similar for Chat, to show her appreciation, somehow. It feels so difficult as Ladybug, when such gratitude isn’t… </span>
  <em>
    <span>them, </span>
  </em>
  <span>when she’s careful of every gesture she makes because she doesn’t want him to interpret it wrongly, but as herself, it’s a bit different. And Marinette supposes that she’s flattered that he likes her civilian self as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette hands a chocolate to Tikki, who is lounging on the chair next to her. The kwami beams at her before taking the sweet, swallowing it in one go. Marinette stifles a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s on her seventh chocolate (there are twenty four in total) when a dark shape streaks by the rooftops in front of her. Marinette’s all too familiar with Chat Noir’s silhouette and movements, so she all but shoves Tikki behind her back. And also chokes on her chocolate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her partner lands gracefully in front of her, tail swishing behind him, before he gives a sweeping bow. “Good evening, princess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s still partially paralyzed from surprise and fear—he hadn’t seen Tikki, had he?—but she manages to get to her feet, swallowing the rest of the chocolate. “What are you doing here, Chat?” It comes out more of a demand than anything, and she mentally slaps herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowns at her. “You don’t seem that happy to see me,” he notes. She knows him well enough to hear that the joking tone carries a note of hurt underneath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette throws her hands up. “No!” she corrects, then flinches at how high her voice had gotten. “I mean, yes, I’m happy to see you, but I just wasn’t expecting to see you. You came by yesterday, and I just thought… well, I thought that you’d probably have better things to do?” It comes out as a squeak, and she pinches herself. This is Chat. Her partner. The last person she’d act like an idiot around, whether it be as Ladybug or as Marinette. A little reassured by that fact, Marinette squares her shoulders. “But don’t you have things to do, Chat?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His tail droops a little bit at that. “Not today,” he replies glumly. “I wouldn’t have gotten out of the house if I didn’t have my costume on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette squints at him. “You mean you transformed just to leave the house?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat gives her a little smile, but it’s so obviously forced that she opens her mouth to call him out on it. Then Marinette remembers how many times she’s done the same thing and snaps her mouth shut. Remembering his words from yesterday, she offers tentatively, “Do you want to talk about it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s eyebrows furrow, lips pressed together in a thin line. His green eyes are looking at the distance, somewhere Marinette cannot see, and the lack of… well, the lack of everything that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chat—</span>
  </em>
  <span>the boasting, the jokes, the puns—are an obvious indicator that something’s wrong. Then he shakes his head. “I just didn’t want to be alone,”  he replies quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitates. The homework’s still incomplete, and her designs are also, but Chat was there for her yesterday, and it feels wrong not to do the same. Not just wrong—even though she’s not Ladybug right now, it doesn’t change the fact that Chat Noir is one of the most important people in her life, and it’s much easier to show that appreciation without her mask on. In a strange way, there is more she can do for Chat as Marinette than she can do as Ladybug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, having some company would be good for herself as well. Away from thoughts of being the guardian, away from thoughts of Adrien Agreste, and away from thoughts of Hawkmoth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you eaten?” Marinette asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat blinks at her. “Pardon?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you had dinner?” she repeats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh—I—no.” His tail is still drooping, and Marinette wants to scratch his ears or flick his bell but she knows that she cannot. “It’s fine, though. I skip dinner sometimes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No wonder you’re so scrawny,” she mutters under her breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat perks up. “What was that?” he asks, the teasing tone back in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn him and the super hearing the suit granted him. “Nothing,” Marinette grumbled back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have you know that I have a lovely set of abs under the suit. I’m just too modest to show them off, princess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Modest,” Marinette echoes. “Ha ha, ki—Chat, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> be hilarious. Did anyone ever tell you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He places a clawed hand on his chest. “You wound me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scrunches her nose at him. “Well, come down. I’ll grab you something from the bakery, and you can keep me company in my room while I try to finish my homework.” She pauses. “I don’t suppose you’re good at physics?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To her absolute surprise, Chat perks up. “Physics?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect you to be. Anyway—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Purr-incess, physics has always been my favourite subject.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Marinette’s turn to stare at him in shock. “You’re actually good at physics?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounds bad the moment it comes out. Chat’s smart, and she knows that, but she’s never connected him as… well, physics. It’s Marinette’s worst subject, and practically everyone in Mme. Bustier’s class hates it. Everyone but Adrien. But Adrien is good at every subject, so it doesn’t mean much and Adrien loves school while no one does—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shoves the thoughts of Adrien straight out of her head and looks back at Chat. “Could you do my homework for me?” she blurts out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bursts out laughing. “Seriously?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette flushes. “I want to design,” she protests. “I haven’t had much time to, with everything that’s going on, and I told myself I”d finish them before the week is over but it’s almost over and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>hasn’t happened, and…” She gives him a sheepish look. “I’ll feed you? I mean, if you don’t want to, I totally understand and you can just… I don’t know, sit in my room and watch me but—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat breaks her off. “It’s not like I have anything better to do,” he replies. “But—is it really alright for me to go into your room? What if your parents come in?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By parents, he meant her father, and Marinette winced a bit at the reminder. She had no doubt that he would be mad—he would be downright furious, really—if he found Chat Noir in her room. Her mother would definitely be more understanding, but it still would be hard to explain why he was there doing her physics homework, having snuck in from the skylight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Marinette finally decided. “They usually don’t come up this late, and you’ll probably hear them coming up the ladder, so you’ll have time to run or hide if they do come up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be too focussed on your homework to hear.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette swats a hand at Chat, which he ducks from, laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir loves their bakery’s croissants, and that’s an understatement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette brings up two of them for him and two eclairs. Her father had been preparing for the next day so Marinette didn’t dare grab more in fear of being interrogated, but she also has a stash of cookies in her room she always keeps for Tikki, and she’s sure her kwami won’t mind if she fed Chat a couple of them. A couple minutes in, and Chat has devoured both the croissants and is on his second eclair. Marinette, leaning on her bedpost with her sketch pad on her lap, grins at Chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re obviously starving,” she tells him. “Maybe I’ll actually be able to fatten you up if you come by more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He taps his pencil thoughtfully to his chin. “Don’t make offers you’ll regret.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want the poor, stray kitty to go hungry,” Marinette counters. “I’ll be happy to get you scraps whenever you need.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feed a stray, and it’ll continue coming back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Maybe this stray can continue doing my homework for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat lets out a little snort, and Marinette finds herself smiling as well. It’s so easy with him like this, so much simpler than anything else. She keeps an eye on Chat in her periphery; the way he’s perched on the chair is undeniably feline, tail swishing behind him, concentration all over his face. It’s endearing, seeing her partner like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s also the nagging question of </span>
  <em>
    <span>what’s wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>given that he definitely  had something on his mind when he came. But Marinette tells herself that if he didn’t want to talk about it before, he probably doesn’t want to talk about it now, and she’ll do well keeping her nose out of his business. After all, she’s not in for finding out his identity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They work in companionable silence for around fifteen minutes before Chat sets down Marinette’s workbook and stretches. “Done,” he announces. “Anything else for me to do, princess?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sweep the chimney, Cinderella,” Marinette replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Chat bemoans. “But stepmother, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>finished picking up all your clothing—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...what have I started—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—and! Get this! I even baked wonderful croissants for you, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is how you’re treating me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, get out,” Marinette manages between giggles. “Next time you come here, don’t expect me to be welcoming strays.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat pouts at her—actually  </span>
  <em>
    <span>pouts—</span>
  </em>
  <span>and Marinette can’t help but thinks that he looks cute and it’s unfair and then it hits her that it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chat, </span>
  </em>
  <span>her partner and what the hell is she thinking—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smacks his shoulder instead, hoping she isn't blushing as hard as she feels like she is. “You don’t have to go back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits down on the ground next to her. “Nope. They won’t notice I’m gone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like a string of yarn to pass your time with?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat gives her a look, which Marinette laughs at again. Then, before she can stop herself, she reaches out and flicks the bell at his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pleasant ringing noise, but Chat is looking at her with an indecipherable expression. Marinette opens her mouth to ask him why he’s staring at her like that before she realizes what she just did—the exact thing she’s always done as Ladybug—and mentally panics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” she manages out. “Why are you—why are you looking at me thike lat—why are you looking at me </span>
  <em>
    <span>like that?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s eyes widen and then he looks away from her. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding somewhat breathless. “It’s just… a friend does that to me a lot. You kinda reminded me of her a bit there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette lets out a breath of relief. “Ladybug?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s arms shake when he laughs a little. Marinette can feel them brushing against hers. “Why, is it that obvious?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only extremely.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” he drawls. “Well, My Lady </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>amazing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The irony of him telling <em>her</em> that is not lost to Marinette, but she manages to keep her mouth shut, and instead turns back to her notebook. “Why do you think she’s amazing?” she asks as conversationally, pencil skating across the paper. “Honestly, from what I’ve seen from her, she’s made so many mistakes. Look what happened with Queen Bee. Not only has she failed to capture Hawkmoth, but it seems like Hawkmoth’s getting stronger and stronger and Ladybug’s still… the same. Do you really think she’ll still be able to protect Paris at the rate things are going?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true,” Chat says immediately, and Marinette flinches a bit at the sharpness in his tone. He notices, because a sheepish expression crosses his face. “Sorry,” he mumbles, although he doesn’t sound very apologetic. “But you’re wrong. Sure, Ladybug has made her share of mistakes, but who hasn’t? I don’t think she’s the same, either. If you’ve seen her from the beginning—from when she started—to now, you’ll know how much stronger and how much braver she’s become. I’m proud of her. Paris should be too. And I have no doubt that My Lady will be able to protect Paris from whatever Hawkmoth decides to throw at her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette blinks at the words. Part of her is moved, and the other part adamantly protests that she doesn’t deserve a sentence Chat is saying. “Look at what happened with Queen Bee,” she tries again, suddenly well aware of the miracle box that is sitting a couple of feet away from the two of them. “She was literally one of the miraculous holders. Yet because of Ladybug’s negligence, she turned to Hawkmoth. She thought that Ladybug didn’t care about her. Isn’t that Ladybug’s fault?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat looks towards her, now not bothering to hide his frown. “What Chloe Bourgeois chose doesn’t fall on Ladybug,” he insists.  “Ladybug was doing the right thing not returning the bee miraculous to her, but Chloe couldn’t accept that.” He pauses for a second, then looks straight at Marinette. She swears he’s staring into her soul.  “Do you not like Ladybug?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette throws her hands up again. “No! I mean—no, that’s not true. I do—I do like her, but it’s just… I don’t know. I guess I’m still a bit more edge after the battle with Hawkmoth. It was scary watching all my friends get controlled by Miracle Queen, and seeing Hawkmoth…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you there?” Chat asks, the previous topic forgotten. “I remember that you weren’t part of those who took their miraculous back even though you were the holder of the mouse miraculous once.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s pretty sure her brain circuits are fusing together from the stress. “I did use the mouse miraculous,” she affirms, palms sweaty  around her pen. “But I saw the bees and ran. I hid well. I was with Luka when they attacked, and he got—he got stung instead of me. I figured that bees don’t like water, so I turned on my shower and hid in there and—” She breaks off, scared that she’ll reveal a little too much if she continues talking. “Yeah. That’s kind of it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat is looking at her, a little too intensely, and Marinette’s heart is pounding. Master Fu is gone, she reminds herself, and now that </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>the guardian, she knows her miraculous won’t get taken away just because Chat has found out her identity. But at the same time, she knows that she hasn’t hid her identity from him for so long </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>because the fear of getting her miraculous taken away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He can’t know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To her relief, Chat Noir finally turns away from her, resting his elbows a little on his knees, which are pulled up. “It’s funny,” he says. “Ladybug sometimes says the same things about herself. It’s not typically the same sort of criticisms most Parisans have of her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s heartbeat picks up. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat shrugs. “It’s always… sure, people demand why we haven’t caught Hawkmoth yet, but those who have a bone to pick with Ladybug don’t really mention the things you have. It’s like… you actually understand her when criticizing her, you know what I mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s not out of the woods yet. “I don’t know Ladybug,” Marinette finds it necessary to clarify. “It’s just… things I’ve kind of noticed about her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat laughs a little. “Well, you’re pretty right,” he says. “But have a little faith in Ladybug. Everything you’ve said about her, I can assure you that Ladybug’s well aware. She’s doing everything she can, and she’s given more than she should have to fight Hawkmoth and to protect everyone. She deserves every piece of appreciation she gets, and more. I can guarantee you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>…right, so he probably doesn’t have that many suspicions. “Don’t know if I can take your word for it,” she teases Chat. “Seeing you’ve always sung such high praises of her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins back at her. “Well, I only know two people who deserve my praises.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Ladybug and you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette flushes. “You don’t know me enough to say that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat opens his mouth, closes it, then pauses. Then he says, “I know enough about you to say that,” he says. “You’re so—you’re so kind and generous and you’re… Paris needs more people like you, Marinette.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s sure her face is positively on fire, as red as her costume, and she turns away from Chat. His eyes have always been green, but since when have they been </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>green? She can’t keep staring into them. “You’re exaggerating,” she mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re seriously awesome.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely </span>
  </em>
  <span>overdoing it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just accept how great you are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not when you put it like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it. You’re amazing, Marinette.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re amazing, Marinette. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For a moment, those words don’t come from Chat Noir but from Adrien Agreste, sitting next to her at her desk after she’s beat him in another round of Ultimate Mecha Strike III, staring at her with his lovely green eyes and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette mentally slaps herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid, stupid, stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This is Chat, not Adrien, and her face is red enough as it is and </span>
  <em>
    <span>does not </span>
  </em>
  <span>need to get any more red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s expecting Chat to say something witty in return like he always does, or laugh at her or make another one of his cursed puns, but he’s gone quiet. For a moment, neither of them speaks, and then Chat says, “By the way, what happened to the pictures on your wall?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Huh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marinette thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>strange of </span>
  </em>
  <span>him </span>
  <em>
    <span>to change the topic. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Either way (perhaps he’d seen how embarrassed she was and backed off), she’s grateful until she realizes what he’s talking about. And looking at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The significantly more blank wall stares back at them. Where Adrien’s pictures once hung lies a blank space, one that Marinette had vowed to fill with other pictures—pictures of her friends, which </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>include Adrien, but not so… obsessive. It’s empty, almost sadly so, but it’s not something she can go on with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette knows exactly what pictures, but she manages, “Uh… which pictures?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat hesitates a bit. “Adrien Agreste.” He says the name strangely, almost like it’s a bitter taste on his tongue. “What happened to him? I remember you had a bunch of pictures of him up.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out a laugh, this one much higher and very much faked. “Uh… I took them down?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s looking at her again. Marinette doesn’t return the gaze, but she feels it on her face very clearly. “Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her brain is a jumbled mess as she tries to think of an answer. Why? She’s struggling for an answer. “I had them up because he’s a model and I liked designing and I liked Gabriel Agreste’s fashion lines and I thought it was all super cool but now I’m pretty good friends with Adrien at school—I mean, actually I don’t know because I don’t know if he considers us good friends—but I thought it would be weird to have so many pictures of him up because we’re friends now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are just as jumbled a mess as her brain is, but it’s the best Marinette can get out. She nods. “Yup. That’s why.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s quiet for a little while. Then, “You’re good friends with Adrien Agreste?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette blinks, surprised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he got out of it? But then again, she reasons, Adrien </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a celebrity, so it’s not a huge shock that Chat’s surprised they know each other and are friends. “Yes,” she replies, now slightly calmer. “Why? Do you want me to get an autograph for you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat scrunches his nose. “No thank you. I’ve never really been a fan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Marinette’s turn to look at him in surprise. “You aren’t?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” He looks a bit sheepish. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never been into fashion, and seeing his face every turn gets kind of tiring. What’s he like, celebrity and all?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette supposes Chat has a point, even though she’s never thought seeing his face so much was tiring. So, she says, “Adrien’s very kind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Purr-incess, that’s not how you describe someone you call a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good friend.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette giggles. “Fine. Like I said, Adrien is kind. When I first met him, I kind of started off with a bad impression since I thought he and Chloe were pulling a prank on me, but when I got to know him more, I realized they were nothing alike. He’s… he’s the type of person who would put his own discomfort aside for others if it makes them happy. He’s… bright. He kind of just emits his own light sometimes. And he’s pretty cute.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are out before Marinette realizes that she hadn’t said them in her head like she planned. She slaps her hands over her mouth immediately, looking at Chat and fully expecting him to make fun of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he’s looking at her with those unreadable eyes again, mouth open in an </span>
  <em>
    <span>O. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Marinette says, hoping to find some way to redeem herself. “I mean, yeah, haha? He’s pretty good looking? He’s a model and all? He has very nice green eyes and all and uh… yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat swallows. Then clears his throat. “I guess?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s never been so embarrassed. “Forget it,” she mumbles. “You won’t get it. It’s a—uh, it’s a designer thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Chat echoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They slip back into silence, Marinette with her cheeks red and refusing to look back at Chat, attention solely focussed on her sketchbook. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she looked at him a little longer, though, she might’ve seen the same red on his cheeks.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>reviews are very much appreciated! would be great if you could leave your thoughts :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lila's still going on about the chocolates Chat Noir bought her, and neither Adrien nor Marinette can take it anymore. </p><p>And apparently Chloe, as well.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>adrien is so whipped but mari's jUst a FriEnd so bewarned u might wanna slap him</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neither Adrien Agreste nor Chat Noir are morning people, so it’s a surprise that Adrien gets up at the first ring of his alarm clock. He usually has at least five of them set. </p><p>He’s still tired. He’s absolutely <em> exhausted. </em> Adrien knows exactly the reason, and apparently, Plagg is well aware too because he zips out from his side of the bed (one <em> half of the bed; </em> his nasty kwami has claimed a whole <em> side </em>for himself when he fits into the palm of Adrien’s hand; it’s ridiculous) and wags a finger at Adrien. </p><p>“Thanks to you,” Plagg starts, voice even grouchier than usual, “and your god awful tossing and turning, I kept on getting woken up. If you’re going to do that again tomorrow, you’re sleeping on the floor!” </p><p>Adrien rubs his eyes and shoots Plagg a halfhearted glare. “This is <em> my </em>bed.” </p><p>“It’s <em> my </em> powers that you’re using to transform to visit your girlfriend,” Plagg shoots back without missing a heartbeat, pointing a paw in Adrien’s direction. Plagg is rarely threatening, but he’s definitely a force to be reckoned with when he’s grumpy <em> and </em>unfed. “You might have fun gallivanting around the city in your cat suit at night, but it sucks pretty big time for me. So better start feeding me better and actually letting me get a good rest.” </p><p>Adrien feels his face heat up at the mention of Marinette, and he desperately wills it to cool back down. “Marinette is not my girlfriend,” he corrects Plagg. “We’re just—we’re just close friends! She thinks we’re close friends too!” </p><p>“And she thinks you’re cute,” Plagg adds drily, sounding like he wants to pull all his fur out. </p><p>“Yeah, as a model,” Adrien replies as he starts changing out of his pajamas. “But did you hear? She thinks we’re <em> close friends. </em> I wasn’t sure, especially since I felt like she was avoiding me at school, but she <em> doesn’t </em>dislike me. It’s okay that she’s more comfortable around Chat. She still likes me.” </p><p>Plagg looks at him for a couple of seconds. Then he shakes his head. “I want my camembert,” is all he says. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Adrien arrives at school the same time as Marinette does, and she looks behind her to see him and holds the door open. </p><p>Her face is flushed, bangs slightly askew—she’s probably been running, given that she always bursts through the classroom late. Despite that, there’s a glow to her and she gives him such a bright smile when they make eye contact that Adrien feels his ears burning as her words from yesterday echo through his head again. </p><p>“Hey,” he greets as they walk inside together, hoping he sounds more normal than his brain feels. “You look like you’re in a good mood.” </p><p>Marinette shrugs slightly. “Met up with an old friend last night,” she replies. “It was pretty nice.” </p><p><em> Met up with an old friend. It was pretty nice. </em> Adrien feels like dancing. <em> He </em> made her look that happy. <em> He’s </em>the old friend. He’s so giddy he could hug anyone. Even Lila. </p><p>Okay, maybe not Lila. But he grins at her nonetheless. “That’s great!” he enthuses. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” </p><p>Marinette shoots him a confused look. <em> Shit, not again.  </em></p><p>“I mean,” he tries to rectify. “You looked kind of down the past couple of days. I take it that you <em> are </em>feeling better?” </p><p>“Oh.” Marinette slides into her seat, Adrien into his, but he turns his chair around so he can face her. “Yeah, I am. Everything’s just been a little overwhelming.” </p><p>“Ah,” Adrien replies. He thinks of the last conversation he’s had with her, as Adrien—the chocolates. Marinette had lied about receiving them, played it off so nonchalantly that if he hadn’t been the one to give it to her, he would have completely fallen for it. Lies usually make him uncomfortable, but Marinette doesn’t have one insincere bone in her body and he finds it rather admirable how she was able to keep her mouth shut. She actually <em> had </em>Chat’s best interests in mind. All that attention Lila garnered really belonged to Marinette, but she was humble and considerate enough not to take it. </p><p>“Well,” he finally says. “If you ever need to talk, you know I’m here, right?” </p><p>Marinette offers him a smile. “Thanks,” she says. </p><p>Blue eyes stare right into his. Adrien meets her gaze for as long as he can until his ears grow so hot that they feel like they’re going to burn off. Since when have her eyes been <em> so </em>blue? Pretty, bluebell eyes, just like another girl he knows—</p><p><em> Nope. </em> He brushes the thought from his head as he turns away from Marinette. <em> Nope.  </em></p><p>Somewhere in his shirt, Plagg is shaking. Snickering. Adrien wants to smack his kwami. </p><p>There’s a couple minutes left before the bell goes off, and everyone begins filing in as well. Alya and Nino are next, both of their friends sliding into their respective seats next to Adrien and Marinette. Adrien hears Marinette and her friend chatting behind him, and he turns to Nino as well. </p><p>Nino stares at him for a couple seconds. “Dude, did you run here?” he asks. </p><p>Adrien does a double take. “I what?” </p><p>“Did you run here?” Nino repeats. “Your face is so red.” </p><p>“Uh, I—” Adrien brings a hand up to touch his cheeks. “Um, kind of. I woke up a bit late.” <em> Wrong. </em>“Is it noticeable?” </p><p>Nino bursts out laughing. “Dude, you literally look like a tomato.” </p><p><em> Please stop talking, </em>Adrien pleads, but all he does is give Nino a pained smile before picking up his water bottle. He downs at least half of it before realizing he drank too much. </p><p>In his peripheral, he can still see Marinette. Adrien doesn’t even realize he’s watching her until she lets out a laugh at something Alya said, the sound tinkling and bright and <em> pretty </em>and he’s reminded of the night before, when he sat next to Marinette and made dumb puns and she laughed in the same way. </p><p>
  <em> And he’s pretty cute.  </em>
</p><p>Adrien turns abruptly away from her, finishes the rest of his water, and buries his face in his arms. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Lila brings a box of hazelnut chocolates for the class to eat. Chat Noir has, apparently, bought her too many chocolates for her to finish, and now she is graciously sharing them with everyone. </p><p>Adrien can barely take it anymore. </p><p>Above all else, he feels bad for Marinette. Feels bad for all the times he told her to back down, feels bad for telling her to take the high road, because he had no idea how it felt to be the subject of Lila’s lies. He can only imagine the betrayal of hearing <em> Lila </em>being Jagged Stone’s muse when Marinette is the one who has designed his albums, the one who actually knows him. He can only imagine her frustration, the pain of being framed for thievery and cheating and bullying when it was all the other way around. And how much more is there that he’s unaware of? </p><p>Adrien wants to stand up and yell that Chat Noir would <em> never </em> have such <em> terrible </em>taste as to bring chocolates to Lila, of all people, but he can’t say that. Seething in his seat, he watches as the class gathers around Lila, all excited to have a taste of the chocolate that’s come from Chat Noir.</p><p>It’s some no-name brand chocolate that Adrien’s never heard of. He scowls even more. The ones he had given Marinette were the highest quality (even if he personally despises the taste), and most of all, they were for <em> Marinette.  </em></p><p>Nino, Chloe and Sabrina are the only ones in the class who haven’t gone over to Lila’s side. Nino, being allergic to hazelnuts, had refused immediately (to which Lila had beamed and told him that she’d ask Chat to get her ones without nuts). Chloe had given Lila one look of disdain and settled down with Sabrina further away, complaining about their noise. </p><p>Marinette is left in her seat above Adrien. Alya waves at them. “Are you two sure you don’t want chocolates?” </p><p>Marinette, to her credit, manages to smile at her friend. “I’m okay,” she replies. “I’m not really hungry right now.” </p><p>Lila looks at him too. “Adrien?” she asks in her sugar-sweet voice. “Are you sure you don’t want any?” </p><p>Adrien plasters on his blandest smile as well. “I don’t really enjoy chocolate,” he replies in the most monotone voice he can muster. </p><p>Lila’s eyes flicker to Marinette briefly, but then she returns Adrien’s smile with faux cheerfulness. “Alright!” she exclaims, then turns to the posse gathered around her. “As I was saying, Chat Noir can be… he’s rather shy with me. It’s endearing.” </p><p>Adrien is still listening in. <em> Shy? </em> Maybe he really <em> should </em> pay her a visit as Chat and show her what <em> shy </em>is. </p><p>“Chat Noir doesn’t seem shy,” he hears Alya muse. “Isn’t it always flirting with Ladybug? From what I know from Ladyblog interviews and from—um, from the Ladyblog interviews that I’ve done, he isn’t exactly shy.” </p><p>“He used to be really flirty,” Lila breaks in quickly. “But you guys know me. I don’t really like over-the-top displays, and Chat knows that too. He’s a lot more toned down about me. I think Ladybug gave him some pointers too, because he’s been super sweet.” </p><p>“Are you dating?” Rose pipes. </p><p>Lila heaves a slight sigh. “No,” she replies. “I… I told Chat I wanted to take it slow, because I’ve never been in a real relationship, and I wanted to get to know him better first, you know?” </p><p>“Then do you know who he and Ladybug are behind the mask?” </p><p>It’s still Alya’s voice, but her tone has changed. Both he and Marinette turn around at the same time, staring at the red-haired girl in surprise. </p><p>Lila, too, looks shocked. Then she smooths it over. “Chat Noir and Ladybug?” she echoes. “As in, their civilian identities?” </p><p>In his peripheral, Adrien sees Marinette lean closer, like she’s waiting to hear the answer too. Adrien doesn’t blame her for being curious about it. After all, he’s been hanging around her quite a bit as Chat Noir. If there’s <em> anyone </em>he would ever reveal his identity to (apart from Ladybug), it would be Marinette. Not Lila. Never Lila. Except—</p><p>“Yes,” Lila says. </p><p>The class erupts. Even Chloe has dropped what she’s been doing and has rushed over to Lila. Alya, still standing, doesn’t say a thing but continues staring at Lila with an indecipherable expression on her face. Adrien feels white hot rage bubbling underneath, and he looks up at Marinette, who is staring at Lila with a pale face. </p><p>Then she stands up abruptly. The chair scrapes behind her, but it’s barely audible in the noise and clatter as everybody in the class is demanding answers from Lila. She’s smirking, obviously basking under the attention, but Adrien rips his gaze away from her to Marinette. She’s walking, then running out of the room. </p><p>Adrien takes one last look at Lila before sprinting after Marinette. </p><p>He finds her in the hallway, not far down from the classroom doors. She’s leaning over the railing, eyes closed, and Adrien watches as her chest rises and falls slowly, fists opening and closing. From where he’s standing, he can’t tell what her expression is—is she upset? Is she mad? Is she crying? He hopes she’s alright, and tentatively, Adrien moves towards her. </p><p>“Marinette?” he tries. </p><p>She looks towards him. To Adrien’s surprise, she doesn’t look particularly mad or <em> that </em>upset, even though her lips are pressed in a disapproving, thin line. </p><p>Adrien takes her expression as a cue to step closer so they’re side by side at the railing, staring across the school. </p><p>“She’s lying,” he says. “Ladybug and Chat Noir would <em> never </em>reveal their identities to someone like her.” </p><p>Marinette laughs quietly, though it’s defeated. “I know,” she replies. “What <em> hasn’t </em>she lied about? But what can I do about it? She’s got everyone wrapped around her pinkie finger, and the whole class will believe anything she says. Maybe I should be glad that she’s not targeting me, but…” </p><p>“But?” he prompts, leaning into her next word. </p><p>Marinette gnaws on her bottom lip. “Chat didn’t get her those chocolates,” she mumbles. “That’s not something he would do.” </p><p>Adrien doesn’t even breathe. “The chocolates were probably for Ladybug, right?” </p><p>Marinette is taking deep breaths. She looks at Adrien, looks back at her hands, and then takes one last deep breath. </p><p>“Adrien,” she says. “Can you please—please promise me not to tell <em> anyone?”  </em></p><p>His heart is thumping so loud that he’s scared Marinette will hear it. She’s going to tell him. She trusts him enough to tell him. She trusts <em> Adrien Agreste </em> enough to say it, and he’s <em> so </em>happy. </p><p>“Yes,” Adrien breathes. </p><p>Marinette steadies herself, knuckles white around the railing. “Chat didn’t get Lila the chocolates. He got me the chocolates.</p><p>She’s back to looking at him now, with determined, bluebell eyes. Marinette is still gnawing on her bottom lip, along with so many other signs of nervousness, and Adrien realizes that she’s worried he won’t believe her. Because even though it's the truth, she's frightened that it's too preposterous a claim, especially since Lila's been saying the same thing.</p><p>“I know,” he blurts out. </p><p>Marinette stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “Y-you knew?” she stammers. “B-but how? I didn’t tell anyone and Chat just—” </p><p>“I mean I guessed,” Adrien rectifies, almost stumbling over his words. “I meant to say ‘I knew it’. Because I thought it didn’t make sense yesterday and I asked you about it yesterday and… honestly, if there’s <em> anyone </em>Chat would get chocolates for, it would be you, right?” </p><p>Marinette scrunches her nose, contemplating something. “Well, I mean there’s Ladybug, and I think Chat just saw me or something to get me those chocolates—haha, that’s probably why! He just needed to give them to someone? Maybe Ladybug r-rejected them?” She’s wincing. “Uh, that’s probably it.” </p><p>This is a less better formed lie than the last one, but Adrien will take it. She trusts him! His whole body feels like it’s singing, and he has to do everything he can to hide the giddiness. </p><p>“But about Lila,” Marinette mumbles, and all the happiness saps out of Adrien. Right. Lila. There was still Lila to contend with. </p><p>“Lila needs to be exposed,” Adrien blurts out. </p><p>“<em> What?”  </em></p><p>Before either of them can say something, the classroom door bursts open and Chloe storms out. It’s no surprise she looks mad about something, but to both of their surprise, Chloe zeroes in on them immediately and jabs a finger in their direction. </p><p>“Dupain-Cheng!” she yells, and Adrien flinches a bit at the volume, surprised that she’s addressed Marinette and not him. He takes a step in front of Marinette, hoping to shield her from at least a bit of Chloe’s fury. </p><p>Marinette is frowning at Chloe. “Is something wrong?” she asks, voice surprisingly amiable. </p><p>“Yes, something is wrong,” Chloe seethes. “Tell me you don’t buy that stupid story that bitch is telling everyone.” </p><p>Marinette exchanges a look with him. “Uh… I don’t.” </p><p>“Good,” Chloe snarls. “Lila doesn’t know jackshit about Ladybug. She doesn’t know who they are. They were <em> never </em>best friends.” </p><p>“Chloe—” </p><p>“Ladybug wouldn’t become friends with her,” Chloe spits spitefully. She’s on the warpath, now; there’s no stopping her. “Ladybug’s not truly friends with <em> anyone.”  </em></p><p>Adrien stiffens. He knows that Chloe has a grudge against Ladybug, given what happened before, but this isn’t what he expected. In fact, nothing is going as expected. </p><p>“Chloe,” he starts carefully. “You know Ladybug—” </p><p>“I don’t want to hear about Ladybug,” Chloe snaps at him, and Adrien rears back. She’s never used that tone of voice <em> to him. </em>“I want to see Lila Rossi put in her place once and for all. Dupain-Cheng, are you in?” </p><p>Marinette flinches back, frowning. “I don’t know,” she begins, eying Chloe warily. “We don’t really—” </p><p>“I’m in,” Adrien says. </p><p>Marinette’s jaw drops open. Chloe looks a bit surprised as well, but only for a moment, because she gives him a pleased look. “Adrien’s in,” she repeats to Marinette. “Aren’t you?” </p><p>Adrien turns around to look at Marinette. “We need to do something about her,” he says as firmly as possible. “This has gone far enough.” </p><p>The poor girl still doesn’t know what to say. Her eyes are flickering from him to Chloe, then back to him, then to her again. Adrien doesn’t blame her for the indecision; in fact, he’s rather surprised at his own words. He wouldn’t blame Marinette for not wanting to associate with Chloe—after all, Chloe had been Miracle Queen, had gotten her friends all controlled, had done those terrible things. Chloe has bullied her, called her names, tried to get her expelled. Even though he's been friends with Chloe for so long, even <em>he </em>can't help the feeling, the grudge, the uncomfortableness after what happened with Miracle Queen. </p><p>But then Marinette’s eyes flash with a look of steely determination that looks strangely familiar and nods at Chloe. </p><p>“I’m in,” she replies. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i literally have nothing better so i churned this out at super speed<br/>plagg roasting adrien is my aesthetic and you can't change my mind </p><p>also, chloe redemption POST SEASON 3 because character development??? what were the writers doing??? im going to try to work with the whole "chloe got akumatized to save her parents and to get revenge on ladybug" but chloe's actually sorry for it even though she's too proud to admit, for now. don't want all that previous development to go to waste. </p><p>AND, alya's not a complete idiot in this. i blame bad writing and the writers wanting everyone to "gang up" on mari for pLoT, but i think if the show were more consistent, alya wouldn't be siding so easily with lila. </p><p>again, feedback is very well appreciated!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A certain journalist sniffs out Lila's lies, and in addition, catches Chat Noir in the act of delivering chocolates. </p><p>It goes as well as anyone can expect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>in this fic alya isn't THAT dumb :'))) i think she's too big of a ladynoir shipper to believe lila saying that chat gave up on ladybug, so... now she knows :) and bc i personally dislike pitting everyone against marinette bc lila rly isn't THAT convincing ://</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marinette feels like she’s signed a deal with the devil as she walks home. </p><p>It was surprising enough that Adrien—Adrien, of all people—had wanted to expose Lila. But seeing Chloé hate Lila with such a burning passion was even more shocking, and the peak of it came when Chloé was willing to work with <em> her.  </em></p><p>Marinette really doesn’t know why she agreed. Chloé is the reason Master Fu is gone. Chloé is the reason for all this mess. Chloé is the reason the Miracle Box is sitting in <em> her </em> room, the reason all her friends had gotten controlled and their identities exposed. Every time Marinette sees Chloé, all she can even <em> think about </em> is what happened that day, how all of this is <em> because of Chloé. </em>Perhaps Queen Bee had once been part of the team, but she sure isn’t anymore, with everything that has happened. Chloé has not only proven herself unreliable, but she’s been selfish, she’s put everyone in danger, she nearly got Ladybug and Chat killed. Every fibre in Marinette’s body screams that she should hate Chloé, blame Chloé, stay away from her, but somehow, that afternoon, Marinette hadn’t. </p><p>Maybe it is Chloé’s fault  on a surface level. But is it really? Marinette can’t say that she’ll <em> ever </em> like Chloé Bourgeois, but at the same time, she can’t say that Chloé is evil either. Because at the end of the day, it was Ladybug that had failed.</p><p>Either way, Marinette considers calling it off. Sure, she wants Lila exposed and powerless, but with everything that’s happening, is it really something she wants on her hands? Furthermore, is working with Chloé really worth it? There’s so many factors. The agreement had been of-the-moment, partially out of anger and partially because Adrien had been there, had encouraged her to, had—</p><p>Before Marinette can sort her thoughts out, her phone buzzes. She opens it to a text from Alya. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Alya, 4:13PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>hey, can we talk about smtg? </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Alya’s normally extremely enthusiastic when she texts, so something is definitely wrong. Thinking of it, her friend <em> had </em>been quiet in the afternoon, but… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Marinette, 4:13PM </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Yeah, what’s up? Do you want to call? </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Her phone is ringing a couple seconds after she sends the text. Marinette picks up. “Hey.” </p><p>“I don’t believe Lila,” Alya bursts out from the other side. </p><p>Marinette physically freezes, breath catching. Then, “Come again?” </p><p>“I think Lila’s lying,” Alya repeats. “Things aren’t really adding up. Do you think I can come over tonight? I just—something she said today hit me and it’s <em> wrong </em>and I just—everything started falling apart. I think you might’ve been right. Can I come over?” </p><p>Marinette feels like laughing out of disbelief, then happiness. <em> Finally. </em>Finally, Alya could see. It had taken long enough, and it would be a lie to say that she still didn’t feel hurt, but it was progress. </p><p>“Yes,” she exclaims, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Do you want to come now? I’ll meet you at the park.” </p><p>“Thanks, girl,” Alya replies, “I’ll see you.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Marinette listens as Alya spills every single thing about Lila that she’s been able to prove wrong. It’s as if all the journalist instincts have arisen, because she has truly done her digging this time, with carefully piled evidence—from Jagged’s non-existent kitten to Lila’s false disabilities to the celebrities she claims to know. Alya’s angry to the point of tears, frustrated, betrayed, and most of all, full of apologies. She bursts out crying at one point—Alya, who runs into akuma attacks head-on just to get <em> footage— </em>Alya, who never cries—and her sincerity is enough. Marinette hugs her best friend and gives her tissues and pats her back until she stops crying and the apologies stop, even if it's just for a bit. They’re mostly angry tears, though, and through them, Alya is sniffling out threats and curses at the Italian girl. </p><p>Marinette doesn’t take pleasure seeing her friend in such a state, but she has to admit that she’s a little happy. Not out of spite—or maybe a little bit of her is meanly satisfied—but relief, too. Who knows where Lila’s lies might’ve led Alya if she hadn’t been careful enough? Although most of the lies have been relatively harmless and Lila's never followed up on anything, the possibility that one of them could someday endanger Alya isn't something Marinette can ignore. </p><p>After Alya has spilled everything, they sit side by side in companionable silence. There's a plate of cookies between them that’s remained mainly untouched (Marinette’s pretty certain Tikki is eying them from her bag), so Marinette takes one, breaks it in half, and offers it to Alya. </p><p>“Cookie?” </p><p>Alya takes it with a small, sad laugh. “We really don’t deserve you, Marinette.” </p><p>Marinette takes a bite into it and tries to ignore how much she disagrees with that statement. “It’s good you found out, but I’m sorry you had to the hard way.” </p><p>“I’m sorry for accusing you. And not believing you for so long. I shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have said those things, especially when I <em> did </em>know you better. You’re not a spiteful person, and if I had just taken time to fact check...” </p><p>“Lila’s charismatic,” Marinette cuts in before her friend can go on blaming herself more. This is what she wanted, but not <em> this </em>exactly—she knows what it’s like to blame yourself, still does—and she knows that it’s not completely Alya’s fault. “She was good at lying. If I hadn’t actually caught her in a lie, maybe I would’ve believed her too.” </p><p>Alya looks at her, wiping under her eyes again. “How did you find out?” </p><p>Marinette’s story is already well rehearsed. “Well,” she starts. Alya hasn’t commented on her wall, the lack of her Adrien pictures, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get there. Which might be soon, because the story always seems to turn back to Adrien. “You’re not wrong that I was jealous in the beginning. Lila was all over Adrien, and he looked uncomfortable about it, so I followed them into the library. And kind of eavesdropped.” She gives her friend a sheepish look. “That was my fault. But then, she asked Adrien to meet her at the park and he did, and I overheard them talking—okay, <em> yes, </em> I know I was stalking—and then Lila told Adrien she knew Ladybug and that <em> she </em>was also the descendent of a superhero. She showed Adrien a necklace that she claimed was a Miraculous that belonged to Volpina, a fox superheroine from a long time ago.” </p><p>Alya’s gaze darkens. “That’s not true. Rena Rouge had the Miraculous, and before that, Ladybug kept it safe.” </p><p><em> Kept it safe, </em>just mere feet away from them. Marinette swallows. She needs to pretend the miracle box is not there right now, for both her and Alya’s sake. Then there’s the fact that she can’t ever give the Miraculous back to her friends now that Hawkmoth knows their identity—perhaps different ones, she reasons to herself—but that’s yet another bridge they’ll cross when they get there. </p><p>Marinette clears her throat. “Anyways,” she says. “Ladybug showed up that time, just as Lila was talking about how close they were. She confronted Lila right then and there and said they weren’t friends, and I kind of…” She flails her arms in an attempt to re-envision the whole scene. “I overheard because I was eavesdropping?” </p><p>Alya looks indignant. “Ladybug confronted her about it,” she exclaimed. “Why was I so stupid? I could’ve just asked Ladybug if she knew Lila. I’ve seen her plenty.” </p><p>“It’s an easy mistake,” Marinette reassures. </p><p>Alya shudders. “Ugh. I can’t believe I fell for all of that for so long. Who knows how much longer it wouldn’t have been if I caught her slip up today.” </p><p>Marinette raises an eyebrow. She’s heard most of the story except this. “How <em>did</em> you find out?” </p><p>Alya takes another cookie from the platter. “It was after you left,” she starts. “I don’t know if you heard her because you and Adrien weren't in the classroom, but Lila claimed to know Chat Noir and Ladybug’s actual identities. I guess—I guess I thought that was suspicious, because even Chat Noir doesn’t know who Ladybug is and vice versa. It made me second-guess other things she said, especially that Chat’s given up on Ladybug, so I started to do a little digging.” Alya opens her hands and mimics an explosion. “Boom. Everything fell apart. I can’t believe that little bitch had me fooled for <em> so </em> long. The answer was literally dangling in front of my nose. Chat Noir gave up on Ladybug and bought <em> her </em> chocolates? You’ve got to be kidding me. Chat Noir would never look at <em> anyone </em>else the way he looks at Ladybug, least of all Lila.” </p><p>“Don’t worry, the obvious isn’t as obvious at it seems.” </p><p>Alya throws her head back and groans. “Tell me about it. What are we going to do now?” </p><p>The question jerks Marinette back to reality. Reality where she has teamed up with Chloé and Adrien to expose Lila once and for all. A little hesitant, Marinette repeats everything that has happened to Alya, and her best friend listens to it all with wide eyes. They’ve got a lot to catch up on, Marinette realizes as she talks. And it feels a little better, knowing that Alya’s here for her, even if she cannot tell her everything. </p><p>“Chloé?” Alya demands when Marinette finishes. “Adrien is one thing, and it’s already suspicious enough because Adrien doesn’t have one mean bone in his body, but Chloé? She’s nearly got half the city akumatized, and now—” </p><p>The sentence goes unfinished because there’s a knock on her window. Marinette looks up, half expecting to see a bird that’s smacked into the windowpane. Instead, she sees Chat’s blonde hair and green eyes peering inside, an excited grin on his face. He waves, then points a clawed finger up, the indication clear. <em> I’ll be up there.  </em></p><p>Marinette wants to hide, because a moment later, Alya has whirled on her. </p><p>“That was Chat Noir,” she says. </p><p>Marinette winces. “Yes.” </p><p>“Chat Noir’s here to see <em> you?”  </em></p><p>“He might just be dropping by,” she tries weakly, but Alya has forgotten all about Lila and Chloé and is already barrelling towards Marinette’s skylight. Marinette hurries after her friend, determined to catch her before she does too much damage. </p><p>By the time she makes it up the ladder, Alya, who is always supernaturally fast when it comes to akumas and superheroes, is standing right in front of Chat with her arms folded in front of her chest. Chat is holding one hand behind his back, but Marinette can see the pink box that dangles. </p><p>Chocolates. </p><p>“You’re here to see Marinette,” Alya is saying, gaping at him. </p><p>Chat Noir scratches his head, lips pulling into a sheepish grin. “I didn’t know you had guests over,” he replies, addressing Marinette. “Uh… nice to meet you. You’re Alya. Ladyblog runner?” </p><p>Alya is shaking her head, having apparently malfunctioned. “You’re here to see Marinette,” she repeats, even louder. “This isn’t the first time.” </p><p>Chat looks over her shoulder to give her a confused, worried looked that obviously says <em> save me. </em>Marinette takes it as a sign to go to Alya, place her hands on her shoulder and drag her back a step or two. “Chat Noir and I are… acquaintances,” she says carefully. </p><p>Chat straightens. “We’re friends!” he says cheerfully, then takes his hand out from behind his back and stretches it towards Marinette, the pink bag dangling between his fingers. “I’ve met her a couple of times after akuma attacks, and we’ve gotten pretty close since then. I’m just dropping by to give her chocolates.” He winks. “Right, princess?” </p><p>Marinette rolls her eyes as she accepts the chocolates. “Okay, you overdramatic stray. Would you like a croissant?” </p><p>He sweeps into a bow. “Only because you so kindly insisted.” </p><p>“Wait here,” Marinette tells him, and all but drags Alya back to her room. She can already feel the questions piling on. </p><p>Her friend explodes the moment they’re out of Chat’s sight. </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hisses. “<em> Oh my god. </em> Chat Noir is visiting you—who knows how frequently?—and bringing you chocolates and—holy shit, <em> you’re </em> Lila. But <em> actually </em> Lila. What Lila says is happening to her is <em> actually </em> happening to you. I—you—Chat— <em> holy  shit.”  </em></p><p>Marinette is torn between laughing and crying. Chat has the worst timing ever, and Alya’s semi-breakdown is a testament of it. Her friend is still struggling to process the information, so Marinette quickly instructs her to stay in her room while she runs downstairs to prepare food for Chat Noir. </p><p>Of <em> course </em>he’d show up now. Marinette isn’t even surprised, and part of her is rather pleased seeing Alya’s reaction, knowing that she’s now aware of the truth. It’s satisfying, to say the least, to see Lila’s lies exposed so thoroughly. </p><p>She pauses, hand hovering over the chocolate macaroon. Chat doesn’t like chocolate. </p><p>She picks the passionfruit one instead, making up a quick excuse to her parents about Alya still being hungry, and races upstairs again. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Alya hadn’t stayed in her room. Marinette doesn’t know why she’s surprised, and with a groan, she climbs up to the skylight again, balancing the plate precariously on her hands. Chat has taken a seat on the lounge chair, although he’s stiff as a stick. As soon as Marinette pokes her head through the trapdoor, Chat springs to his feet with a shaky laugh. “Hey,” he greets with a grin, though his eyes flicker to Alya. She has taken out a notebook, apparently halfway through interrogating him, and Marinette has to hold in her laugh at the expression on his face. Chat’s usually good with interviews, but it’s no surprise that Alya has him overwhelmed with the onslaught of questions she’s undoubtedly putting him through. </p><p>Marinette bites her lip. “I brought you croissants and macaroons.” She offers the plate to him. “Although I’ll let you finish your… interview first.” </p><p>Alya beams at her, apparently not reading Chat’s expression very well. “Great!” she exclaims as she plucks the plate out of Marinette’s hands and sets it aside. Chat’s eyes follow them longingly before Alya exclaims, “So.” </p><p>His head snaps up, then he clears his throat and straightens. “What would you like to know? I’m running a bit late, since I was just planning to give Marinette the chocolates and take off after.” </p><p>Alya jots something down in her notebook. “Are you dating Marinette?” she asks. </p><p>Marinette sputters. She had let Alya go on with her “interview” just to pull Chat Noir’s leg (or tail?), but it’s spectacularly backfired already. “Alya,” she exclaims, mortified. </p><p>Chat has the decency to look embarrassed. “No,” he sputters. “We’re just <em> friends.”  </em></p><p>“Friends,” Alya echoes like it’s the worst word in the world. “Friends don’t drop by and bring each other chocolates.” </p><p>Marinette nearly yanks Alya aside. “He likes Ladybug,” she shrieks, voice an octave too high. “Seriously, Alya, you should know that.” </p><p>Alya gives her a little shove back, face set in a mask of determination. “But he’s bringing you chocolates, and it’s not a one time thing either. You don’t bring a girl a bag of chocolates in a pink bag frequently if you’re not interested in them!” </p><p>“Alya,” Marinette groans. “Seriously. We’re just friends.” </p><p>“Friends?” Alya demands. “You’re just as insane as Adrien!” </p><p>Marinette flushes. “Chat brought me chocolates last time because I wasn’t feeling well! He was just trying to cheer me up!” </p><p>“Oh, yeah? How did you even meet him and—” </p><p>In the back, Chat clears his throat. “Uh, can I jump in?” he asks, and Marinette’s face burns even more. “First of all, why Adrien, and second of all… what’s happening?” </p><p>“Adrien—” Alya begins. </p><p>“This has nothing to do with Adrien,” Marinette interrupts briskly. “Chat, tell her we’re not dating.” </p><p>Chat scratches his head, messing up his already-messy locks even more, before saying hesitantly, “We’re not dating.” </p><p>“With more certainty,” Marinette instructs. </p><p>“We’re not dating,” Chat repeats. Then, having recovered a bit of his bravado, he adds, “Marinette and I are just good friends. She helped me with an akuma once, and her parents run the best bakery in Paris. It’s a mutual relationship. I bring her chocolates, she feeds me.” He beams at Marinette. “Right?” </p><p>Marinette nods. “Yes, that’s right. You can have your croissants now.” </p><p>Chat’s face lights up when he reaches for the plate. Alya, however, is far from satisfied. Although she’s put her notebook away, she situates herself between Marinette and Chat. “What about Ladybug?” she asks Chat. </p><p>“Still the love of my life,” Chat replies easily around a mouthful of croissant. Marinette chokes, but thankfully, neither of them notice. </p><p>Alya eyes him suspiciously. “You’re not hitting on my best friend?” </p><p>Chat raises his hands. “Woah. No.” </p><p>“Do you know someone called Lila Rossi?” </p><p>“Lila Rossi?” </p><p>Marinette doesn’t have time to wonder what the surprise in Chat Noir’s voice means before Alya is launching into her story already. </p><p>“She’s a girl in me and Marinette’s class,” she explains. “Italian. Wears a red jacket. She’s been telling everyone in our class that she’s Ladybug’s best friend, and we all bought it. A couple of days ago, she started telling us that you were bringing her chocolates.” </p><p>Chat frowns. “But the chocolates were for Marinette.” </p><p>“<em> Exactly,” </em> Alya hisses. “The chocolates were for Marinette. It took me a while, but I <em> just </em>realized everything that girl has said was absolutely bull. She said you gave up on Ladybug to chase her. Can you believe it?” </p><p>Chat shifts his weight. “I… can’t believe it,” he replies, sounding rather unenthusiastic. </p><p>Alya finally seems to realize something’s off with Chat. “Why don’t you sound surprised?” </p><p>Chat sends Marinette another look, one that clearly says <em> help, </em>but Marinette is curious as well. For a moment, he seems to be thinking of his answer. “I’ve met Miss Rossi,” Chat finally decides to say. His green eyes flicker to Marinette again, then his mouth sets into a firm line. “As you might know, she was akumatized into the fake superheroine Volpina. She nearly had Ladybug and I fooled, but My Lady was suspicious of her, and we realized in the end that she was another one of Hawkmoth’s victims. She seems to have a knack for lying. Afterwards, Ladybug tried to make up with her, but Lila told her they’d never be friends. She also was there on Heroes’ Day, and was the one who created an illusion of Chat Noir being killed by Ladybug in order to get the citizens of Paris akumatized. Ladybug and I are both well aware of her lies.” </p><p>Alya’s eyes are wide as saucers when Chat finishes. Finally, in a much smaller voice she asks, “Was this an official statement?” </p><p>“No,” Chat replies immediately.  “This is the truth that I’d like you to know, Alya, but I’d like to keep it on the down-low for now. Neither me nor Ladybug want to deal with her akumatized again, so for now, it’s safest not to broadcast it. But rest assured, I’ll make sure Miss Rossi doesn’t get away with her actions.” </p><p>Marinette stares at her partner with wide eyes. Since when had he been so professional? Chat has always been confident, sure, but that was with all the flirty comments, all the over-the-top gestures, all the jokes and puns. But this—this is a side of Chat Noir she has never seen. </p><p>Before any of them can speak, there’s an explosion in the distance. A flash of fire follows it, and all three of them look towards the source. </p><p>“Akuma,” Chat says. “Marinette, Alya, get inside. Ladybug and I will deal with it.” </p><p>He gives Alya a nod of acknowledgement before his gaze lands on Marinette, who’s still gaping at him. The look on his face softens into a smile. “Thank you for the food,” he tells her. “Keep safe.” </p><p>Then Chat Noir is a streak of black as he races towards the akuma, gone in a heartbeat. </p><p>Marinette stares at him a while longer. Only Alya jerks her out of her reverie with a sharp shake. </p><p>“You and I are going to have a long talk about this,” she hisses. “Because Chat Noir was <em> definitely </em>flirting with you. I’ll come find you after Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat the akuma.”</p><p><br/>She doesn’t wait for Marinette’s reply before she’s heading down the skylight, ready yet again to run head-first into the danger. </p><p>Marinette releases the breath she’s been holding. She’ll get Alya to safety as Ladybug; she’s got a much better chance that way in making sure her best friend doesn’t get hurt. For now, maybe it’s a good thing that Alya’s not hiding out in her room, because it gives her the reason to disappear. </p><p>Three words later, Ladybug stands in Marinette’s place, and then she’s swinging across the rooftops towards the direction of the fire and Chat Noir. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>rly happy and pleasantly surprised with the amount of feedback i got last chapter—i'm super thankful!! </p><p>there will be some ladynoir next chapter bc ladybug's been a bit scarce, so... look forward to that? <br/>also i forgot to mention but they are slightly aged up in this fic, between 16-17 :)</p><p>again, comments are very much appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hawkmoth starts launching the akuma attacks out again, full force. </p><p>Something feels a little different—not with Hawkmoth, but with Ladybug herself. She just doesn't know what. </p><p> </p><p>or... </p><p>in which marinette is not okay and everything's just a bit too much for our fav girl :(</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was gonna alternate between mari/adrien POV chapters, but this one seemed like it suited marinette more! Whoops :) <br/>Please keep in mind that the changes between “marinette” and “ladybug” are significant! For the most part it’s “ladybug” when marinette is transformed, so when it does change… there’s a reason :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ladybug spots Chat Noir floundering with the akuma as she zips to the site of devastation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The akuma looks like a fire monster from some sort of video game; a tall build of molten rock, and beneath, the bright red glow of lava threatens to ooze out. The strangest part is the red-orange striped scarf around their neck, the fire having no effect on it. A quick look around at her surroundings and Ladybug figures it ranks quite high on the akumas they’ve faced, but it’s also nothing a Lucky Charm can’t fix. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The akuma shoots a ball of fire towards Chat again, and Ladybug snatches him out of the way with a shout, just in time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They land on the rooftop of a nearby building. Chat is out of breath, his messy blonde hair plastered to his forehead from sweat. It’s no surprise, given that the area is almost unbearably hot. What isn’t on fire—well, practically everything is on fire—but Ladybug can almost see the heat waves in the air, the hot air clinging uncomfortably to her skin. She’s already sweating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s with the hold up?” Chat asks, wiping a hand over his forehead. “Anyway, the name’s Incinerator. I’m pretty certain the akuma’s in her scarf. Uh… try not to get hit?” He winces. “It’s so hot I can’t breathe. The akuma's pretty... </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiery</span>
  </em>
  <span>ous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug rolls her eyes at the pun. “Alright, try to keep it distracted. I need an opening to snatch the scarf.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not that easy to get close to,” Chat warns her. “I’ve tried. Every time I get close, she releases this heat shield thing that throws you back. I tried luring her towards the Seine, but she probably knows what I’m trying to do, because it doesn’t work and she never follows. If only we had a giant bucket of water to dump on her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Incinerator lets out a roar that seems to shake the buildings, and Ladybug also feels it right down to her bones. The akuma hurls an arm in their direction, and both she and Chat Noir scramble for cover. The building they were just standing on explodes into a mixture of fire and rubble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust you, My Lady!” Chat shouts over the rumble. “Just try to get it over quickly before we’re turned to ashes!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, he lunges towards Incinerator. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The akuma isn’t a very vocal one, because it doesn’t demand their Miraculous like the rest do. Ladybug figures that Hawkmoth really doesn’t need to keep reiterating it through every victim, because the drill is always the same. Maybe he’s figured out threats don’t work. Maybe he’s tired of repeating the same thing and has gone for a more direct approach. Or maybe the akuma just doesn’t want to speak. It’s all a possibility, and Ladybug swings around the buildings as she tries to find a weak spot to snatch the scarf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amidst the fire, she can see the black shape of Chat darting through, shouting at the akuma. Chat Noir, who had gotten her chocolates a little while ago, who had been standing on her—on Marinette’s—balcony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug shakes the thoughts out of her head and launches her yoyo at Incinerator before leaping off the building. The string catches onto one of the molten arms of the monster, but before she can get close enough, the akuma lets out another deafening roar and Ladybug hits the heatwave barrier that Chat had previously described. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a strange feeling, almost like the feeling of opening a hot oven and feeling the scorching air collide with the cold. It hits Ladybug, and she swears she feels something </span>
  <em>
    <span>singe— </span>
  </em>
  <span>her hair? Eyelashes? Eyebrows?—and then she’s knocked back harshly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she can hit the building behind her, a strong pair of arms have slowed the fall. A second later, both Ladybug and Chat Noir crash through the window of a shop, and glass shatters all around them before she and Chat hit the ground. Or, more accurately, before Chat hits the ground, and she hits him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Winded, Ladybug lies still on the floor, out of breath and her whole body burning. She’s pretty sure her suit is charred. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>charred. It’s a possibility. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beneath her, Chat Noir lets out a groan. “My Lady,” he wheezes. “Can you get off me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes her a moment to realize that she’s still sprawled on top of him. Ladybug rolls off immediately, wincing at the glass shards underneath them, and turns worriedly to Chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remains on the ground, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut. There are shallow cuts over his face, but the suit has protected both of them from most of the damage—at least from the glass. There’s no saying what damage Chat Noir sustained when he practically stopped all her momentum from the explosion, and Ladybug feels her heart stutter when she looks at her partner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chat,” she croaks, ignoring the sounds of the rampaging akuma outside. “Chat! Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Ladybug’s relief, he cracks open an eye, a slit of emerald green. “Don’t worry,” he manages, as Ladybug helps him sit up. “I’ll survive. The suit protected me from most of the damage.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She brushes a hand over his cheek, where the splinters of glass had cut in. “You’re injured, kitty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He manages a smile. “I’ve had much worse. Do your thing, My Lady. The Lucky Charm will reverse it anyway.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat looks at her with such </span>
  <em>
    <span>trust—</span>
  </em>
  <span>trust and tenderness—that Ladybug feels her heart skip a beat. She doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t deserve this undeterred, steadfast belief he has always had for her, even at her worst. A clawed hand wraps around her own, and he gives it a quick squeeze. “I always save you because I know you’ll be able to save me right after,” he jokes as if reading her mind, before letting go of her hand in favour of pushing himself to his feet. “Do your thing, Bugaboo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug manages to laugh at that. “No more Bugaboo calling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a step forward with a barely-concealed limp, and Ladybug turns to the akuma, determination set back into her. She’s going to fix this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky Charm!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their surroundings light up with red—a much more friendly red than the fire—and Ladybug is left staring at the contraption in her hand. She has no clue </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>it even is. There are numbers, there’s a dial, but there’s nothing remotely helpful about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A water pressure regulator,” Chat supplies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug frowns. “I don’t suppose I can make pipes explode if I turn this up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not connected to anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, why does Tikki give me the most useless—wait, Chat, you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>genius!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Amusement is written all across his face when Ladybug whirls around to beam at him. “I need your baton.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat feigns hurt. “You need my baton, but you don’t need me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve done more than enough, kitty. I’ve got it from here and I’ll have you fixed up in no time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile widens when she gives the bell at his throat one more flick, and then Ladybug is running out of the destroyed shop with Chat’s baton in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The akuma apparently isn’t an attentive one (then again, it’s rather big and clumsy and apparently forgetful), because it doesn’t even notice her until she’s swinging into its line of sight again. “Hey!” Ladybug yells at the Incinerator, praying that she’s in the right spot. “Over here, you big bully!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The akuma spots her and lets out another roar. It lumbers over towards her, each step sending a tremor racking up the sidewalk, and bares jagged teeth at Ladybug. There’s molten, red-hot lava dripping from its mouth, and its eyes also give off the same red glimmer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She swallows thickly. Chat’s baton is already jammed into the position she needs it to be, right under the fire hydrant. If the akuma throws the fireball in the right direction, it should be enough to snap the whole thing open, and hopefully, release the water. The owner of said baton is still in the destroyed shop, waiting for her to heal his injuries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Ladybug is acutely aware of how small she is compared to the akuma, how she can </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally </span>
  </em>
  <span>be squashed like a bug, and she swallows the fear rising to her throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks desperately to herself. She’s so close, everything’s already in place, and she doesn’t need to be afraid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But isn’t it reality? Not only is she much smaller than the akuma, but she’s weaker. The Lucky Charm depends on how well she can strategize a solution, but what if one day, she can’t? Because under the red, under the black polka dots, is Marinette. Not Ladybug, but Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing in the heat, with fire everywhere, Marinette Dupain-Cheng looks up at the akuma looming over her, and terror—unexplainable, illogical terror seizes her. She’s never been so afraid, never has the fear hit her </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>hard. What can she do against Hawkmoth? They aren’t anywhere closer to catching him—he’s only grown more powerful, found more allies—while she still can’t get out of a situation without Chat having to throw himself in harm’s way for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s rather ironic how she freezes up in the midst of such heat. The akuma takes a step forward, arm poised to throw, although it waits for something. The feeling of her yoyo in her hand disappears. The suit, the mask—Marinette can no longer register them, and it feels as if she’s standing in front of the akuma in her normal attire. Underneath the suit, isn’t that what she is? Normal? And they need </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than normal to defeat Hawkmoth. They need—they need extraordinary, they need a Ladybug that… well, they need a Ladybug that’s stronger. And that Ladybug isn’t Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Run! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her brain screams. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Move! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug,” the monster rumbles in a low baritone, and Marinette sees the purple mask flicker over its eyes. Hawkmoth. “Are you finally ready to give in? Have you realized it is pointless to fight this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug!” Another voice this time, one that is more familiar, younger, brighter. “What are you waiting for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head turns before she registers it. Chat has limped out of the shop, clutching his abdomen. One of his eyes isn't open, and his tail is drooping behind him, but determination is set on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawkmoth lets out a growl, and the arm that’s been prepared to swing finally hurls the fireball at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug’s whole body unfreezes. The ball of fire hurtles towards her, and Chat is shouting at the top of his lungs at her to </span>
  <em>
    <span>move, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and finally, she manages to snap into action. Her yoyo catches the edge of a building, and Ladybug is sent flying out of the way just as the fireball skims her feet and slams into the fire hydrant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The desired effect happens as it bursts open, a torrent of water exploding. The nearby fires are effectively extinguished, and the akuma lets out a pained roar as it makes contact with the water. Taking advantage of its distraction, Ladybug swings around and snatches the scarf right off its neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s cataclysm isn’t necessary this time; she rips it apart without much effort. A moment later, the akuma has fluttered out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her whole body feels weak—terror? Pain? Shock?—but Ladybug manages to keep her composure as she captures the butterfly and purifies it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water pressure regulator is heavy in her hands. Ladybug looks at it once—the rusted metal, the broken hand, before tossing it into the air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miraculous Ladybug!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A swirl of red and pink later, their surroundings have all been restored. In the place of the Incinerator sits an old lady with spectacles perched on her nose, confusion plastered all over her face. She’s bundled up, overdressed in Ladybug’s opinion, but perhaps it’s the recent cold weather that has perhaps led to the woman’s akumatization. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she says as she picks up the renewed scarf. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The old lady looks up, dazed. “Ladybug,” she exclaims as she accepts the scarf and the hand. “Did I—did I get akumatized?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir approaches them as well. Ladybug glances at him first; his eye seems okay, he’s no longer limping, and the cuts on his face are nowhere to be seen. She lets out a breath of relief before turning back to the woman. “Yes,” she replies. “But don’t worry. It’s not your fault. Do you remember what happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They start walking down the street. Ladybug can hear Chat Noir’s footsteps behind her, following at a fair distance. Her earrings are beeping, becoming more urgent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the weather,” the woman sighs. “My joints always start hurting when it gets this cold, and I suppose I got a little frustrated. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug smiles at her. “It’s completely fine. Hawkmoth is to blame. Would you like us to take you home?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets out an embarrassed little laugh, patting Ladybug’s hand. “I’m okay, darling,” she replies. “I don’t live very far from here. You kids go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heads off in her own direction, and Ladybug is left with Chat Noir, who is watching them silently, for once. It’s not often that he’s so quiet after a battle, especially after what happened, and Ladybug turns around to look at him. There’s a lot she wants to say to him, but she has no idea where to begin, or if she can even begin </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug,” he starts, voice devoid of any joking tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shrill beeping of her earring cuts them off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I gotta go,” she blurts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s level gaze lingers on her for a couple moments more before he nods. “We have patrol tonight,” he reminds. “Are you still up for that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to him. Even if they don’t speak, a bit of fright lingers from seeing Chat lying beneath her, injured and bleeding, and Ladybug wants to sit next to her partner and soak in the knowledge that he is now alright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’ll have to wait until tonight, though. She nods at him wordlessly, and they part ways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Marinette detransforms back, she hits her bed and collapses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not necessarily physical exhaustion per say—even if that factors into some of it—but the whole situation catches up to Marinette and she doesn’t even want to move. A quick scroll through her phone tells her that Alya is okay and has somehow maneuvered her way out of the locked room Ladybug left her in, but her friend is on the way to inspect the area that Incinerator had devastated. There’s another succession of texts that demand (and threaten) Marinette about the situation with Chat Noir, and she knows that her best friend isn’t letting her off easy the next day at school when they see each other again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a bit of a relief that Alya isn’t coming now, though. Marinette finally summons the energy to roll from her stomach to her back, and she lies on the bed and stares at the ceiling and tries to process everything that happened with Incinerator. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tikki flits out from her bag after a couple of minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette,” she chirps in her get-ready-for-a-talk voice. “What were you thinking today?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette squeezes her eyes shut. She’s too tired to do any thinking, and the words start waterfalling in an unorganized jumble. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I… I just… I saw Incinerator and all of a sudden I felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I’ve never felt like that in front of an akuma. I just—I couldn’t think, which was stupid, because I already </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>everything thought out. It’s like a froze up, but for no reason.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her kwami is silent for a moment. “Is it because of Chat Noir?” she finally asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Marinette exclaims, a little too quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cracks open an eye to see Tikki hovering right above her nose, arms folded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Marinette repeats. “I mean, yes! No! Maybe—</span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about Chat, exactly, but he was actually badly injured today, you know? There was glass and he was bleeding and limping and I don’t think he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>been hurt that bad. I mean, he’s disappeared or been knocked out and all, but there was… this felt different. And I guess I just froze up for a moment. But it’s fine. Everything turned out okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t the full reason, and Marinette knew it well. That split second (or seconds) of helplessness might’ve been triggered from seeing Chat Noir injured, but it ran much deeper. The problem was that she didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>where </span>
  </em>
  <span>to start with it, how to think about it, or how to address it. She couldn’t say something she couldn’t understand. How could she, really? Marinette could still feel the aftertaste of that terror, but she couldn’t understand. What had been wrong with her? Then a more terrifying thought hit—maybe she really </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>cut out to be Ladybug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tikki,” Marinette whispered, closing her eyes again. “Compared to the rest of the Ladybugs you’ve had, am I really a good Ladybug?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause. Maybe this is the moment Tikki tells the truth, that Marinette is a failure compared to all Ladybugs, that her Chat Noir is especially unlucky to have ended up with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Tikki nestles against her cheek. “Oh, Marinette,” she murmurs. “You’re so young, yet you’re so responsible. You’re brave. You’re selfless. You’re giving and kind. You’re everything a Ladybug should be and more. You are and will be the best Ladybug I’ve ever had—and ever will have.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words take a little while to sink in, and even though Marinette has trouble believing them, it’s like a cool cloth soothed against a burn, or the warmth of a flame against frozen hands. “Chat Noir says similar things,” she mumbles. “But I don’t see it. I really… I really don’t. What am I missing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tikki doesn’t offer a reply or maybe Marinette doesn’t hear it. But all the fatigue catches up, and despite everything, she drifts off into a restless sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the oversleeping that’s done it again; a brief nap had transformed into a five hour snooze, and Sabine had to shake her awake. Dinner was a no-show as well, but both her parents had agreed that she looked too exhausted and neither woke her up until it was long past a reasonable time. Marinette had then shovelled what leftover food there was remaining into her mouth, blustered her way through another excuse about schoolwork and needing peace and quiet, before running to the skylight to transform and meet Chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nearly jumped off the roof without her suit and yoyo, having completely forgotten to transform, before Tikki flitted in front of her before she could tumble down two flights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another day of being even more scatter-brained than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Ladybug drops down next to Chat Noir, she’s already twelve minutes late. He’s sitting on one of the benches facing the Seine when she approaches, one leg bent and tucked against his chest. A smile crosses his face when he sees her, but he doesn’t make any comment until Ladybug sits down beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re always late nowadays,” Chat chastises, but his voice is gentle. He reaches beside him and sets a bag between them. “Here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug looks at the pink bag between them and almost laughs. Chocolates. Chat has gotten her chocolates again, and unknowingly done so twice in the same day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I never stop eating once I start,” she manages, but the lighthearted attempt doesn’t last long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug.” His voice is serious, and his eyes, too. Bright, sincere, green eyes. Once again, she’s reminded—since when have Chat’s eyes been so green? “What happened today with Incinerator?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seems like a prime time to open the chocolates. Ladybug takes them out of the bag, opens the box (it’s an old routine by now), and pops one into her mouth. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were nearly killed because you didn’t move.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s never seen Chat so serious, and for the longest of moments, Ladybug genuinely has no clue what to say to him. She’s used to the flirting, the puns, the jokes. All she has to do is push him away, set him at a comfortable distance, because it’s easy to reject and deflect those comments. This—this feels much more intimate, and even though she calls Chat her best friend, it isn’t something she’s used to sharing with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it were, Ladybug isn’t sure that she can. After all, everything is a jumble of confusion in her brain, and she really </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>know what happened. Not exactly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chat Noir,” she asks instead. “Why do you… think so highly of me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need time to think of my answer to your question.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look at each other in silence. Briefly, Ladybug thinks that this is supposed to be a patrol yet neither of them seem to have that intent in mind. But it doesn’t really matter. After Incinerator, Hawkmoth probably won’t akumatize anyone again today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir gives in first. “The only one who doesn’t think highly of yourself is you, My Lady. All the rest of us can see it. How kind you are, how much you give and how little you ask in return. That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and it’s not because you have a super suit and magical powers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I don’t think so because I know who the person underneath the suit is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or maybe because I know that you, with or without the suit, are the same person.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug opens her mouth to say something, but she can’t think of a reply. She’s burdened Chat enough for today; with her questions, with his injuries, with everything else in between. It’s pointless with these questions; she’d bombarded Tikki with them as well, and now she’s annoying Chat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s wrong with me today? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Chat speaks up again. “What’s with all this self-doubt today, My Lady? We were doing fine with the Incinerator.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got injured.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what this is all about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug cringes. “Yes—no—honestly I don’t know. Everything’s been kind of messy lately. I miss Master Fu, you know? It’s just—it’s overwhelming. It’s really overwhelming. Yeah. That’s why. I’ll get used to it soon, though. It’s fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat remains silent at the confession. Ladybug watches him in her periphery, scared that she’s said something wrong, or something strange, to make him go so silent. It seems like she’s scared of so much more these days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he looks at her. “Are you French?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confusion floods through her, and Ladybug turns to look at him. “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you French?” Chat repeats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, then it makes sense why Eiffel for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug stares at Chat for the longest moment. He stares back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the longest time, her partner has had a penchant for bad timing. But this—it’s godawful timing—is also ridiculously perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug bursts out laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a little hysterical, sure, but for some reason, this pick-up line is so, so funny. She laughs until she can’t breathe, until she’s crying, all the while knowing that all this is doing is endorsing Chat even more with his jokes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Ladybug has somewhat recovered, Chat pokes her in the side again. “Told you my jokes are priceless.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was—that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she wheezes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I take it you’re ready for another one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nooooo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans forward a bit, lips curving into a large grin. “Are you tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You found these on the internet!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s to say I’m not the one who </span>
  <em>
    <span>posted </span>
  </em>
  <span>them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad!” </span>
</p><p><span>“Aw, Bugaboo.” He clutches his heart. “The love of my life, my partner, my everything, My Lady. It took me </span><em><span>forever</span></em><span> to think of these,</span> <span>and you don’t like them? I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of my heart being crushed! If you would like to equate it to anything, it would be the pain you’d get—” </span></p><p>
  <span>“—when I hear your jokes,” she finishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat shoots her a wounded look. “My Lady!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaton</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He beams. “At your service, My Lady.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug can’t help the giggle that escapes her again, and soon, she’s laughing again. Chat doesn’t join in—not completely—but he watches her with a soft smile all over his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And even though everything is in shambles, Marinette hopes that it might be fine after all. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ya the angst is coming but reveal?? who??? don't know her lOL </p><p>(soon) </p><p>and a disclaimer: i'm terrible at puns and pickup lines and i don't have a single creative bone in my body for them, so half of these are nabbed off the internet ;) but they sound just as bad as ones chat would say so its ok</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which things are a mess. </p><p>or... </p><p>in which adrien shoots his shot (but as a friend only!!)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lots of adrienette in this one ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Adrien drops through his washroom window at exactly eleven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plagg is exhausted when he releases his transformation. Then again, Plagg always claims to be exhausted, so Adrien doesn’t really know if it’s all a farce to get his camembert or if his kwami genuinely feels as drained as he makes it out to be. He’ll have to ask Ladybug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of Ladybug… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something’s on her mind,” he tells Plagg as they emerge from the washroom and into his room. “But she doesn’t want to tell me.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what’s on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>mind?” Plagg asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Adrien groans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” comes the sour reply before Plagg is diving towards his cheese cupboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien collapses on his bed, thoughts drifting to his partner again. He thinks of that terrifying moment when he had limped out of the shop to see Ladybug standing in front of a fire hydrant, unmoving, as the Incinerator readied a fireball to throw at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What </span>
  </em>
  <span>had she been thinking? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He draws a blank each time he tries to think of an answer. Ladybug doesn’t like talking about her personal life, doesn’t like talking about her worries, doesn’t like talking about her fears, and definitely doesn’t like talking about what’s on her mind. Sure, Adrien’s happy he got her to laugh tonight, happy  that she looked like she enjoyed his company and was feeling better, but it’s not enough. Then there’s the fact that he’s been wanting to ask her about Master Fu and the miracle box, but never summoned up the courage. Now that she was the guardian, could they reveal their identities? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Ladybug had always looked up to Master Fu, and Adrien didn’t want to rub salt on unclosed wounds. So he kept his mouth shut about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, weeks later, it’s still an untouched topic. Plagg drifts over, having devoured camembert to his heart’s content, and settles on his side of the bed. “Don’t toss and turn tonight,” he grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien wondered if Ladybug’s kwami stole her half of the bed as well. Given the one time he had interacted with Tikki, she seemed pleasant enough. Probably didn’t demand as much food and space as Plagg did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Plagg,” he tells Plagg dutifully before flicking off the lights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lays still in bed for a while longer, but although the clock is edging on eleven thirty and he needs to get up at seven tomorrow morning, Adrien doesn’t feel tired. He stares at the ceiling until it’s spinning in front of his eyes, then rolls over (hoping that Plagg doesn’t feel the bed shifting) to pick up his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug’s probably detransformed right now, too. Probably sleeping. Hopefully better than he is. It’s not like he can contact her, either, because no Plagg means no suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple seconds later, his screen is open to Marinette’s contact information. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien blinks, dumbfounded. How did </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>get there? He wants to text Ladybug, not Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>…but then again, he can also text Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their messages are blank, having never talked in a private conversation. It’s a little ridiculous to start now, Adrien reasons, especially when he has absolutely no reason to, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the clock is ticking towards midnight and he’ll see her in around eight hours. Besides, what reason does he have to text Marinette? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers are moving across the screen before Adrien can process. Then he’s staring at the unsent text: </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 11:48PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hey, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after the whole Chloé thing today. I don’t want to make it seem like we forced you into something you’re uncomfortable with. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>A good starting point, right? Adrien scrutinizes the text. It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse, especially to check up on Marinette given everything that’s happened. And because she considers them good friends, it’s fine. It’s not intrusive. Maybe a little late, but… He squints at the text again. Is it too formal? Is it not formal enough? Does he sound too aloof? Does he sound too casual? The lines are so blurred, and then Adrien decides that maybe it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a good idea to text her and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hits send. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien drops his phone on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breath leaves him in a pained hiss, but he tries to keep quiet for Plagg’s sake. Or for his own sake, because he doesn’t want to be the object of the god of destruction’s wrath again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wincing and rubbing his nose, Adrien picks his phone back up. It’s a good time to attempt to sleep; Marinette is probably asleep, too, and his text won’t get answered until tomorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except on his screen, right beneath what he sent, says: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Read 11:49PM </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, the typing bubble appears. Adrien’s mouth drops open. He probably looks like a fish out of water, and it really shouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>surprisingly. It’s just Marinette. He just asked her a question. They’re friends. Good friends. And good friends text each other. Adrien waits apprehensively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone gives a little buzz. He’s reading the text immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:50PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I’m okay :) I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t want to do it. You don’t have *that* much influence over me lol </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s grinning like a fool now. If Plagg could see him, he would get an earful about how absolutely sickening he looks, but Plagg can’t see him. He reads the text again for good measure. Marinette used a smiley face! She made a joke—she’s comfortable enough to joke with him! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The typing bubble appears again. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:50PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>That was a joke, btw </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s hands are flying over the keyboard already. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 11:51PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>ah, good to know you didn’t feel pressured. and haha i know</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>what are you doing up this late? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>… is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>too casual? Adrien doesn’t know. Maybe he should go back to typing formally, with proper punctuation and capitalization. But that feels weird, because this isn’t an email and this isn’t Nathalie (who texts him so formally that Adrien can’t help but reply with the same tone), and he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be formal around Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:52PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Got caught up in a design! Why are you up? </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 11:53PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>couldn’t sleep :((  kinda hungry too, but i’ve been put on a diet and i’m not allowed midnight snacks because iT wiLl ruIn mY iMaGe  </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Too personal? Too detailed? He bites his nails (his stylist is going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill </span>
  </em>
  <span>him) and waits for her response. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:54PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I’m sending you a virtual pat on the back, Mr. Model :(( Would you like something from the bakery tomorrow? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>The bakery reminds Adrien of his unfinished plate that Marinette had brought to Chat Noir, right when he was being interrogated by Alya. What his dietician can’t see can’t hurt. Besides, being Chat Noir is tiring enough to burn those extra calories. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 11:54PM</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>YES PLEASE. did i ever tell you you’re a lifesaver? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:55PM</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I have been told on multiple occasions that I’m the civilian equivalent of Ladybug :) </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 11:56PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>be honest, am i the only one who has called you that? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:56PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>If I told you the answer was no? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 11:56PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>aw, shucks. i was hoping to be the only one :( </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 11:57PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I lied. It was only you :D </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s face feels like it’s splitting apart from how hard he’s smiling. Marinette’s joking with him, which means that she’s comfortable around him. He rolls onto his back, waiting for the reply again, before there’s an angry grumble on the other side of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did I say?” Plagg demands. “Turn that light off and quit moving!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrien is exhausted when he gets to school, and when Marinette bursts into the classroom, late again, she doesn't look like she’s fared any better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are dark rings under her eyes. It isn’t surprising, given that they stayed up texting until the clock was twenty minutes from three. But it’s development, and Adrien wouldn’t trade talking to Marinette for sleep. She seems more comfortable around him, after all, and it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives her a small smile when she moves to sit behind him, and she returns the look before ducking her head. Adrien turns back to the lesson, hoping to focus, but it’s rather hopeless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lunchtime finds him and Nino alone at their desks, while the rest of the class begins their daily routine of gathering around Lila, although this time, Alya isn’t there to join them. Instead, when Adrien turns to talk to Marinette, Alya is already pulling her friend towards the direction of the door, determination set on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette manages to pass him a Tupperware containing an egg tart and a slice of cake (strawberry shortcake!) before she’s whisked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nino leans in to check it out. The whipped cream on the cake has been slightly smeared, but both look delicious. “Since when does Marinette exclusively bring you stuff from her bakery?” he demands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s too delighted to think of an answer, although it’s not like he really has one either. He picks up the plastic fork Marinette had left him and digs into the cake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It tastes </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavenly. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It shouldn’t be particularly  shocking, given that she feeds him so much as Chat Noir that he already has sky-high standards for the bakery, but it’s still remarkable. Given how plain Adrien’s meals have been the past week or so, this is indescribably good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Nino says behind him. “The cake is good. You can stop rubbing it in with your expression if you’re not going to offer any.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien pulls the cake closer to his chest. “Get your own. This is mine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t be eating that on your diet, Mr. Model.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, I eat what I want now. As long as it’s from the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery, I don’t care what diet I’m on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nino lets out a little snort.  “I’ll let you go for this one because your diet is truly heartbreaking,” he says, and Adrien is left to shovel into his strawberry shortcake in peace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peace doesn’t last very long. From Lila’s little circle, the Italian girl calls, “Adrien? You do remember that we have a photoshoot today, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks towards her with a mouthful of strawberry shortcake. Adrien chews, swallows, and asks, “Yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila gives a self-satisfied nod. “I’m just checking, in case you forgot.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the looks of everyone around her, they’ve been once again awed. Now that Marinette and Alya are gone, it’s only him and Chloé who can treat Lila’s words at face value. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And surprisingly, it’s Chloé that jumps in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a coincidence,” she says in that haughty tone she perfected when they were just kids. “I’m going to Adrien’s photoshoot today as well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila raises an eyebrow, undeterred. “Are you modelling as well?” she exclaims. “I didn’t know!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Chloé replies in a flat voice. “But I told Adrikins I’d accompany him so he could at least have some company.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila’s eyes flit to him so Adrien busies himself back to his strawberry shortcake even though he’s hanging onto every single word between Lila and Chloé. He doesn’t want to get caught up in this right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great,” Lila is saying, but with much less enthusiasm as before. “I’ll look forward to you being there.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien can almost feel how much she’s not looking forward to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé and Lila. He takes another bite of the cake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’ll be interesting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chloé latches onto his arm the moment they start walking towards the shoot after school. Adrien is only half listening to what she’s saying to him, because his thoughts have drifted to Marinette—whom he didn’t get a chance to speak with. It bums him out more than he expected it to, given they stayed up texting each other—it seems to be a rather anticlimactic ending that nothing was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>different in school. Apart from the cake. Adrien fights the itch to pull out his phone and text her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila is walking beside them, but she isn’t clinging onto his arm like Chloé is. While Adrien would much rather prefer Chloé to her anyday, he still can’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Chloé,” Lila is saying in her faux-cheerful voice. “Could you remind me once again why you’re here today? I can’t remember.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé releases Adrien’s arm. “Let’s cut to the chase, Rossi. You’re not that convincing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien chokes a bit. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>how he’s planned on it going. When Chloé had suggested they expose Lila, he had thought… well, Adrien didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought. He just knew that he wasn’t really thinking. But in his mind, he had pictured well-detailed plans, piled evidence, and… confrontation? Maybe a bit, but not so soon and not so aggressively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila’s sugar-sweet tone doesn’t change. “I think you got it wrong, Chloé.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Chloé cuts in sharply. “I haven’t got it wrong. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’ve </span>
  </em>
  <span>got it wrong. I’m here today because I don’t want to leave Adrien alone with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adrien and I are friends, Chloé. Surely you know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>not his only friend?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys—” Adrien interrupts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Miss Rossi!” A fourth voice chimes in, and Adrien looks up to see Vincent, already at the set. “Adrien, I see you’ve brought Miss Bourgeois.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé gives Vincent one look and turns her nose up. “I’m just waiting for Adrien to finish,” she says brusquely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Chloé settles down on a chair to wait, Adrien gets ready for the photoshoot. He’s not looking forward to it, that’s for sure, but as the stylists are fixing him up, his phone gives a little chime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks it up and can’t help the grin when he sees the name across the phone. His stylist makes an indignant sound and Adrien hastily schools his face back to neutral, but he’s already sliding open his screen to read the text. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 3:38PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Do you happen to still have my tupperware container? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 3:38PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>yeah, it’s in my backpack. had to run after school, sorry :( i’ll return it to you tmrw </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 3:39PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>That’s okay :)  </em>
  </b>
  <b></b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrien hesitates, then snaps a picture of the shoot and sends it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 3:39PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>i’m so boredddd </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 3:40PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>See that girl standing near the Seine, wearing the grey dress? Give her a little shove forward and maybe it’ll ease your boredom a bit lol</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrien looks up in the direction. There’s Chloé, a couple paces away on her phone and in the lounge chair, and further down, right next to the river in a grey dress, is Lila, also being touched up by a stylist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 3:40PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Although if she does happen to fall into the river, you might have to save her. I heard rumours that once upon a time, she saved Clara Nightingale’s mother from drowning, but developed a fear of water because of that incident so she never learned how to swim :) </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrien bursts out laughing so hard that he can’t stop himself. His stylist—Agnes, he remembers—smacks his shoulder. “Sit </span>
  <em>
    <span>still,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she hisses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s painful holding in the laugh, but Adrien manages. From her chair, Chloé lifts her head from her phone and raises her eyebrow at him, the message clear on her face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives her a subtle shake of his head and turns back to his phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 3:42PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>my stylist now hates me for laughing so hard :’( thanks mari </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 3:43PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I bet the stylists will have a field day if somebody is shoved into the river ;) </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Adrien Agreste, 3:44PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>chloé’s here, don’t give her ideas. she might really shove lila in </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 3:45PM </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Are you saying you DON’T want her to fall in???? </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s about to reply when Agnes sits back with a huff. “Done,” she exclaims. “You’re especially jittery today, Adrien. What happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien turns his phone off immediately. “Nothing!” he exclaims a little too loudly </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila seems to have finished as well. She’s wearing a light grey dress, simple, but the theme of today’s shoot is meant to be plain but effortless. Adrien wishes this can be over soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Lila walks towards them, he watches in detached fascination as Chloé stands up from her seat. Her sunglasses are perched on her nose, but she slides them down slightly so she can look Lila eye to eye when she lays a hand on said girl’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s too far from the two girls to hear the exchange, but he can see Chloé’s mouth moving. Then she pats Lila on the shoulder and walks past her with a purposeful shove (it’s got to be pretty hard, given the way Lila stumbles) before sitting back down on her chair and pulling out her phone like nothing out of the ordinary has happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lila’s pale with anger when she finally approaches Adrien. He gives her a bland smile before turning to Vincent, who is halfway through shouting at the staff for arrangement, camera tucked rather haphazardly  underneath his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The photoshoot starts out well, mostly because they’re solo shots. Adrien breezes through them with compliments from Vincent, and then it’s Lila’s turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One glance at her tells him that whatever Chloé said to her before they started had its effect. Lila’s much stiffer than she usually is, and Vincent has noticed it as well—he’s snapping commands at her, complaining with his spaghetti analogies, pointing fingers and before finally escalating into yelling. No matter how much he tells her to be “smooth and flowing, like a moonbeam”, Lila can’t seem to meet his standards like she usually does. Adrien even feels a little sorry for Lila when one particularly bad moment has Vincent slamming his hand down on the props table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time her segment is over, Chloé is smirking very openly. Adrien can’t see where she’s looking from under her sunglasses, but he has a feeling that her phone isn’t the object of her attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Lila looks distressed. And angry. When she fails once more at a particular pose, Vincent lets out a frustrated shout. “We will try again </span>
  <em>
    <span>after,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he barks at Lila. Then, practically throwing the camera down on the table, he storms off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien heads over to Chloé as discreetly as possible. The makeup artists and stylists rush over to touch up Lila, who stands in the middle of the backdrop looking rather lost. Adrien can’t say she doesn’t deserve it, but the sympathetic part of him can’t help but feel bad for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say to her?” he whispers to Chloé. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé doesn’t even turn in his direction. Adrien has a feeling she’s enjoying watching Lila squirm perhaps a little too much. “I just gave her a little reminder.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adrien pushes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé looks up at him. “That she’s a lying little bitch, and she better start getting better at it if she doesn’t want me to expose her in front of all of Paris. Quite literally.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien’s mouth drops open. He really should stop being so astonished at what Chloé does or says, but he can’t help himself. Especially when he knows that Chloé is someone who will make good on the promise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We shouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>humiliate </span>
  </em>
  <span>her like that.” The protest sounds weak to his own ears, but he still says it anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Chloé challenges. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re going to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean, </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien snaps his mouth shut. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to say ‘mean’, but Chloé doesn’t need to know that. “It’s unnecessary,” he decides. “Yes, she can’t keep on lying, but there are better ways to stop her. When I agreed to help you, this isn’t what I had in mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better ways?” Chloé echoes incredulously. “Come on, Adrikins. I like you but you’re being stupid now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Adrien can formulate any sort of protest, there’s a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>crash. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The greenscreen is torn apart, and behind it, something—no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone </span>
  </em>
  <span>rises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chokes on his next breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chloé scrambles to her feet as well, breathing out, “Holy shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The staff (and Lila) are all screaming, scrambling for cover. There are shouts of “akuma!” all around, chaos descending in the blink of an eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vincent,” Adrien gasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then everything descends into hell. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Come find me/talk to me on tumblr at e-milieeee.tumblr.com! </p><p>As always, feedback is appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Adrien's photographer transforms into Impastar, things take a rather unexpected turn. </p><p>Needless to say, Chat is furious.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>enjoy lila pulling lilas and some chloedemption and angst!! woohoooo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vincent resembles the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and it would’ve been hilarious if he wasn’t clutching a ladle and destroying everything. </p><p>Chloé gets over her shock pretty soon, and she’s soon on her feet and dragging Adrien away. It takes his brain a couple moments to reboot, but when it does, Adrien knows that he needs to get away immediately to transform.</p><p>“Go!” Adrien shouts at Chloé, yanking his wrist from her grip. “I’m going to make sure everyone else gets to safety.” </p><p>It’s not exactly a lie, but not quite the truth either. Chloé gives him a wide-eyed look of disbelief, but before she can protest or grab him again, she’s swept away by the rest of the staff. Taking advantage of the havoc in the wake of the akuma, Adrien sprints the other direction and ducks behind the nearest building to transform. </p><p>A couple seconds later, Chat Noir is standing in place, and he runs out just in time to see the akuma shoot a glob of—tomato sauce?—onto one of the staff. </p><p>It hits the man full force and they disappear under the glob until it’s just a pile of spaghetti sauce. Vincent sweeps the set with one of his tentacles, sending more people screaming and equipment snapping. </p><p>“Vincent,” Chat yells even though he’s well aware that it’s completely useless. “Calm down! This isn’t you!” </p><p>The akuma turns his head towards him. “I’m not Vincent,” he growls. His voice is a gurgle; the way it forms words is strange, unhumanlike. It’s almost as if he’s choking on water as he speaks, and each word is said with a wavering, liquidy quality. “My name is Impastar, and you’re all going to pay for your incompetence!” </p><p><em> Impaster. </em>That’s a pun Chat can appreciate, even if Impastar leaves him no time to do so. He leaps out of the way as another glob is shot at him—this time, it’s a meatball and the meat splatters unappetizingly against the wall—before spaghetti tentacles lash out in his direction. For spaghetti, they’re surprisingly strong, cutting through screens and tables and equipment. </p><p>Chat is in the middle of promising himself that he’ll never eat spaghetti and meatballs again when Ladybug swings in. She drops down next to him, yoyo retracting, and raises an eyebrow. “What’s the story of this one?”</p><p>Chat beams at her. “Good afternoon, My Lady! That’s Vincent, a photographer. I think a shoot went astray here. Most of the staff are hiding—” </p><p>“Lila Rossi!” Impastar bellows, turning around on the spot and sending bits of sauce flying. “Wherever you are, come out! If you can’t do your job correctly, then you shouldn’t be doing it at all!” </p><p>“Lila Rossi?” Ladybug echoes. “Isn’t that the girl who hates me?” </p><p>There’s a thousand more things that can be said about Lila, but Chat Noir only nods wordlessly. “There was a photoshoot with her and Adrien Agreste. I’m guessing that she made their photographer angry.” </p><p>Ladybug stills. “Adrien was here?” </p><p><em> Right next to you, </em>he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “Yes,” he replies carefully. “Don’t worry. He’s safe. He’s one of the first people who got out.” </p><p>… now he’s making Adrien—himself—sound like a coward. But it’s fine as long as Ladybug doesn’t go looking for him. A sad sacrifice that must be made. </p><p>Ladybug seems satisfied with the answer, so she turns back to Impastar. He seems intent on tearing down the set, because after destroying the greenscreen, he’s turned his attention to every other part of it that’s still remaining. A couple of staff members have come in the path of his rampage, trapped under the spaghetti sauce. Chat watches as the giant ladle Impastar wields slams into a lampost, successfully creating a giant dent in the middle, and he winces. It’s a lot of damage for one ladle. </p><p>“Well, My Lady,” he says as she observes. “Any brilliant plans to get us out of this mess?” </p><p>“No,” Ladybug notes contemplatively. “But I do want to know what train of thought led to him being akumatized into a flying ball of spaghetti.” </p><p>Chat is pretty sure that he can somewhat explain because Vincent is definitely a character even without the akumatization, but there’s no time. “Do you think he’d be satisfied if we give him Lila Rossi?” he asks as casually as possible. </p><p>To his surprise, Ladybug actually pauses as if the suggestion isn’t out of line. “It’s worth a shot.” </p><p>All of a sudden Adrien is reminded of Marinette, joking about pushing Lila into the river, and he figures that he <em> really </em>needs to concentrate. “Well, My Lady,” Chat tells her. “I’ll take the left, you take the right, and let’s figure out where the akuma is hiding first. Sounds like a plan?” </p><p>“Brilliant, kitty,” she replies drily, but she’s swinging off to the right anyway and Chat follows her lead. </p><p>Impastar, previously too distracted with destroying the set (which has now been transformed into meatballs and spaghetti sauce) now turns his attention towards them. It’s rather hard to tell his expression when most of his features are pasta, but if Chat could guess, he doesn’t look happy. </p><p>“Ladybug and Chat Noir,” he gurgles. “Have you come to surrender?” </p><p>“No,” Chat replies. He dodges as another splash of sauce is thrown in his direction. “But please relay Chat Noir’s sincerest message to Hawkie that <em> Impastar </em>is a pretty good pun. He has my approval for that one, even if I don’t approve of the akuma itself.” </p><p>Impastar growls. He doesn’t say another word more and instead, the attacks turn more intense until Chat can no longer dodge and has to shield himself from them. In his periphery, Ladybug is doing the same thing, her yoyo a circle of red in front of her as she blocks the attacks, slowly being forced back. </p><p>“My Lady!” Chat yells. She’s a couple paces away, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “We need to distract him!” </p><p>“Great advice!” she yells back sarcastically. “There’s a—I think it’s a charm? There’s a charm on top of the ladle, attached near the top. I think the akuma might be in there!” </p><p>Sure enough, she’s right—at the top of the wooden spoon, there’s a flash of color, threaded through the hole at the top. Chat tries to move closer to see it, but the moment he edges too close, the ladle slams down on the ground inches from where he is. </p><p>A large dent is left in its place, and Chat gulps. Taking a hit from that could be dangerous, even with the protection of the suit, and his gaze travels to Ladybug again. She nods at him, the message clear. <em> The ladle. </em>It might be dangerous if he gets hit, but at the same time, if he can cataclysm the ladle, then the charm will fall right off of it. And if his cataclysm touches the ladle before it hits him, then he won’t be hurt. </p><p>“Hey! Spaghetti man!” </p><p>Impastar roars at that. Chat deflects a volley of meatballs and sauce sent his way, calling his cataclysm under his breath as he advances forward bit by bit. Impastar raises his ladle again, ready to strike, and then—</p><p>Two things happen at once. Across the street, where most of the staff were hiding, someone yells, “Ladybug! Behind you!” </p><p>The moment they do, Chat slips on a pile of sauce on the ground. He slides, balance momentarily lost, just as Ladybug turns around to block the source of danger behind her. </p><p>The voice connects to Chat as Lila Rossi’s, and then comes the realization that there’s nothing behind Ladybug to watch out for and that the immediate danger remains the akuma in front of them. </p><p>It’s too late. Chat hears himself screaming a warning at his partner but he’s not quick enough, because Ladybug has <em> just </em>turned back when the wooden ladle, having changed direction, slams into her side. She’s too distracted to block, and her yoyo shield is facing the wrong direction. When the weapon hits her, there's nothing to slow or block the impact. </p><p>Things seem to slow down all around Chat, almost to a comical point. He’s still shouting, voice breaking, when Ladybug is hit. There is a second in between in which everything seems to stand still, and her eyes are wide in surprise and disbelief. Then the moment shatters, the impact hits, and Ladybug’s body is thrown like a rag doll backwards. For once, Chat isn’t fast enough to stop the fall when she slams into a wall with a sickening thud and tumbles to the ground. </p><p>She does not land on her feet, but instead limply, unmoving. </p><p>Impastar raises the ladle for another hit. Ladybug looks impossibly small where she lies, and Chat knows that if she gets hit, there’s no guarantee she’ll be okay. </p><p>“Hey! Over here!” </p><p>It’s not a very smart akuma, because instead of taking the chance to finish Ladybug once and for all, Impastar whirls around to the source of the shouting. Briefly, Chat registers that it’s Chloé’s voice, that she’s come out of her hiding spot and that she distracted the akuma <em> for them, </em> but his vision is tunnelling around Ladybug’s broken figure on the street and everything else becomes a disordinate cadence of noise in the background. </p><p>She’s not unconscious yet, because she starts to push herself up, arms trembling. Chat knows he should move, run to her and defend her, but the horror roots him in place. </p><p>In his periphery, Impastar shoots a glob of red at Chloé. Distraction removed, the akuma turns back to Ladybug. The ladle is raised again. </p><p>Then Chat Noir sees red. </p><p>He doesn’t remember what exactly happened, but a barely-human snarl rips out of his throat as he all but throws himself at Impastar. Chat moves at a speed he didn’t know he was capable of, because despite flinging everything it can at him, no attacks from Impastar even get close to touching him. Every noise and every movement around him is a blur, and the only thing that connects is Ladybug’s limp body on the ground. </p><p>It’s all over in seconds. The ladle turns to dust the moment his cataclysm touches it, the charm tumbles down, and Chat Noir all but rips it apart. </p><p>The black butterfly slips out. Chat snatches it out of the air by its wings, and while it thrashes in his hands for freedom, he doesn’t care. </p><p>All around him, his surroundings fill into focus. The destroyed surroundings, the staff members still trapped under the piles of red sauce, and—<em> Ladybug. </em>The anger ebbs, and terror and fear drain into its place. </p><p>Chat whirls around. </p><p>To his surprise, Ladybug is on her feet, although she’s clutching her side and bent over. She holds another one of her strange, Lucky Charm contraptions in her hands, although it seems to have been useless in this fight. Chat races over to her side. </p><p>Her face is scratched, but her suit hides the rest of her wounds. Immediately, Chat slips an arm under her, keeping her upright, and Ladybug gives him a thankful wince. He lets the akuma in his hands fly so she can purify it, then one shout later, the ladybugs are fixing the destruction everywhere. </p><p>The last thing to be fixed is Ladybug herself. Chat continues holding her up even when the pink swirl of magic disappears and she straightens, wounds gone, and doesn’t let go. The terror still pounds sharply, relentlessly, through him, and it leaves him shaking. At some point, he isn’t sure if he’s supporting Ladybug or if she’s supporting him. </p><p>“Chat,” she says cautiously. The rest of the cast have slowly filed in from their hiding places, and while Chat knows his Miraculous is beeping its warning and <em> Adrien </em>needs to return for the shoot, he doesn’t want to let go. </p><p>“Chat,” Ladybug repeats more insistently. “I’m okay. You can let go of me now.” </p><p>Reluctantly, he releases her, if only to take a full look at her. The scratches on her face are gone as well, and she’s standing straight like usual, no sign of having been hurt at all. Chat takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says robotically. “I should—I should go.” </p><p>Ladybug gives him a small smile before she reaches up and ruffles his hair. “Thank you, <em> chaton,” </em>she murmurs. “You did good today.” </p><p><em> Good </em>doesn’t cover what happened. Nothing can cover the terror that moment, and for once, Chat Noir has no words to say. </p><p>“We have patrol tomorrow,” he finally manages to get out. “We need to talk then. Rest today, My Lady.” </p><p>She nods, and the beeping of his Miraculous becomes more shrill. For a moment, neither of them move, and then Chat reaches down and pulls her into a tight hug. She’s a significant amount shorter than him, and although it's not the first time the thought dawns on him, Chat notices how fragile Ladybug feels. </p><p>By then, the staff from the shoot have begun to gather around them, many venturing closer and shouting questions, the others snapping pictures. Chat pays them no mind, especially when Ladybug relaxes and her arms wrap around him too and Chat breathes in her scent of vanilla and apples and tells himself that it’s going to be alright.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Adrien finally transforms back and his thoughts begin processing properly, the first thing that hits him is that Lila had purposely distracted Ladybug during the fight and is the sole reason his partner was hurt so badly. </p><p>He only catches a brief glimpse of her when he walks back to the set, but she’s been draped in blankets and has made a huge show of crying. Adrien’s bodyguard comes to pick him up before he can confront her, which is probably a good thing, because he doesn’t know if he can reign in his patience around her at all. </p><p>Adrien’s never been particularly vindictive, but when he sees her, he truly wants to hurt her. </p><p>Then, when he settles in the car and Gorilla starts driving back, it dawns on him that Chloé is the one who saved Ladybug. She had distracted Impastar long enough for him to regain his bearings. She had done so with the full knowledge that she would most likely get hit, and she <em> had </em>gotten hit. </p><p>But why? Chloé hated Ladybug. </p><p>Didn’t she? </p><p>If she did, why did she save Ladybug? Even further back, why had she been so infuriated when Lila said she knew Ladybug personally? It’s always difficult to tell when it comes to Chloé Bourgeois, but Adrien has found her more and more confusing as time goes by. And it makes her even harder to trust. </p><p>Adrien’s thoughts are a mess when he gets back home. </p><p>It doesn’t get better, because Nathalie appears at the door when Adrien climbs out of the car. Gorilla drives off to park, and slinging his school bag on his shoulders, Adrien walks up the steps slowly. </p><p>“Adrien,” she greets in her usual deadpan voice, and he winces. After everything that’s happened, the last thing he needs to do is to be reminded of his schedule. The suffocating, busy, schedule that Adrien hates. </p><p>“The photoshoot was rescheduled?” he guesses. </p><p>Nathalie’s gaze is unreadable like usual. “Yes. Your father would also like me to inform you that Miss Bourgeois will not be accompanying you to further photoshoots. He learned that she was the one who meddled with Miss Rossi’s performance today, and we cannot afford something that happening in the future again.” </p><p>Anger flares inside Adrien. Maybe it was Chloé’s fault, but Lila does not deserve <em> any </em>pity. Before he can open his mouth to protest, Nathalie adds, “Your father will not be joining you for dinner today.” </p><p>Adrien’s heart plummets all the way down to his stomach. How unsurprising. How typical. He hates the way his chest still tightens at that, how the hurt still blooms and how dread piles up high when he thinks about eating his bland, unfilling meal alone at that long, empty table. </p><p>“I understand,” Adrien hears himself reply, even though he doesn’t really. Or maybe <em> understand </em> isn’t the right word—he understands, but he hates it. A meal with his father once every other week— <em> one meal </em>out of forty two, and his father couldn’t even spare the time for it. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Nathalie says. “Thank you for being understanding. If you’d like, I’ll have your meal sent up to your room.” </p><p>“Yes, please.” </p><p>Nathalie nods at him, and just like that, he is once again dismissed. Adrien can hear his footsteps as they travel up the giant staircase. Then, the realization of just how <em> empty </em>everything is hits him yet again and he speeds up, desperate to get to somewhere more familiar. </p><p>The moment the door to his room shuts behind him, Plagg zips out of his clothing to hover in front of his face. “Kid, you need a break.” </p><p>Adrien drags himself to the couch and throws his body down on it. “Maybe,” he groans. </p><p>Plagg, for once, doesn’t talk about camembert. “Adrien.” His voice is severe. “Tell me what’s wrong.” </p><p>With Plagg, there’s no asking. It’s always a statement or a demand, and Adrien likes that about his kwami. Almost everyone in his life seems to tiptoe around him. The only people who don’t are his father, Nathalie, Marinette and Plagg. Nathalie has always seemed to be an… extension of his father and he can’t really say either of them even count, but he knows for a fact that Plagg and Ladybug both care. And their straightforward way of speaking makes him feel less like the perfect model he’s supposed to be and instead as… Adrien Agreste. Adrien Agreste who likes terrible puns and physics, the subject everyone hates, and runs around the city in a tight leather cat suit. </p><p>“You saw,” Adrien mutters. “When Ladybug was hit. Lila did that <em> on purpose. </em> I know she hated Ladybug, but I guess it never hit me <em> how much </em>she hated Ladybug. If Chloé hadn’t stopped Impastar, I don’t know if she’d be alive. It was just a terrifying thought.” </p><p>“And,” Plagg prompts. </p><p>“And?” </p><p>“There’s more on your mind.”</p><p><br/>Adrien stares at Plagg. He stares back. </p><p>“Fine,” Adrien huffs. “I was looking forward to eating dinner with my father. Which is stupid, because when we <em> do </em> eat dinner together, I can’t keep a conversation going with him and he always looks like he wants to get out of there, but I was <em> still looking forward to it. </em>Now I can’t even do that, and Nathalie’s just going to give me another plain, disgusting meal and it’s not going to be enough so I’m going to starve again. I hate how empty the house is at times like this, and I really wish I had more company. Today’s been horrible and the only good thing was Marinette bringing me the cake for school and—” </p><p>Adrien breaks off, a bit surprised and mortified with himself. He snaps his mouth shut, embarrassed, but it’s too late because Plagg has already heard it all. It’s not that he’s not thankful that his kwami is there (really, it’s probably a huge factor in why Adrien hasn’t gone completely insane yet), but it’s also not the same as another human being. Plagg, though, doesn’t look offended. He only raises an eyebrow as if he’s waiting for something. </p><p>“Marinette,” Adrien realizes. </p><p>“Your girlfriend.” </p><p>Adrien ignores his kwami. “I can go see Marinette!” </p><p>“You couldn’t be more obvious?” </p><p>“I’m going to see Marinette,” he decides, more firmly this time. “Plagg, can you transform me again today?” </p><p>Plagg lets out the long-suffering sigh of someone who had gone above and beyond. “Eat your dinner and let me eat my cheese,” he proposes. “Then we’ll go find her.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>y'all thought this was gonna be a funny chapter because vincent looks like a whole meme? THINK AGAIN </p><p>please come talk to me more on tumblr at e-milieeee.tumblr.com! really, i'm lonely :(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Are you okay?” she asks. </p><p>Wordlessly, Chat shakes his head. He’s quiet for once, one of the biggest signs that something is wrong. Instead of the usual jokes or puns, he just stands there, like he’s waiting for something but is too scared to ask for it. </p><p>Marinette opens her arms, and Chat tumbles right into them. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i thought this chapter would be fluff but its kinda even more angst uh iM soRry </p><p>(there's a bit of fluff at the end??)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Although the Miraculous Ladybug is supposed to fix everything, Marinette still feels phantom pains running down her back when she returns home. </p><p>Exhausted once more, she collapses in bed. It seems to be a routine these days, the fatigue after akuma attacks. Maybe she’s out of practice, given that Hawkmoth had laid off for a while after Chloe’s last akumatization. </p><p>Marinette rolls onto her back. If it’s not the ghost pain she feels from being hit by Impastar, it’s the sensation of Chat Noir’s arms wrapped around her. He’s hugged her plenty before, but this time had been… different. The way he had looked at her right before he ducked down, the way he ignored the crowd he was usually happy to endorse, and the way he had attacked Impastar—it was all a Chat that Marinette wasn’t quite as familiar with. </p><p>“Marinette.” Tikki’s voice interrupts her thoughts as her kwami settles right next to her on the bed. “You do know that something has to be done about Lila?” </p><p>Marinette turns her head slightly. Thoughts of Chat are soon replaced in her head by Lila, and piece by piece, everything slides back. That warning—the warning that had nearly gotten her killed—had been Lila. </p><p>Purposefully. Lila had purposefully distracted her, knowing all too well the possibility that she could get <em> killed </em> by the akuma. She knows the girl hates her as Ladybug and as Marinette, but to go <em> that </em>extent… Marinette shudders. </p><p>“It was a close call,” Tikki is saying. “If it weren’t for Chat, you might not be here. Hawkmoth might have your Miraculous.” </p><p>“Not just Chat,” Marinette mutters. “Someone else distracted Impastar. I—I’m pretty sure <em> Chloe </em>was the one who did.” </p><p>She looks at Tikki for confirmation. For a moment, her kwami doesn’t reply, then she gives a hesitant nod of confirmation. “It was Chloe,” Tikki says. </p><p>Lila, Marinette can understand. It’s partially her own fault for being so careless as to listen to Lila’s false warning, but Chloe? Chloe Bourgeois, helping her? Chloe Bourgeois getting hit by the akuma because she had been helping <em> Ladybug— </em> it seems unheard of. No matter which angle Marinette approaches it with, she simply can’t imagine <em> how </em>Chloe, of all people, would do such a thing. </p><p>“Perhaps Chloe regretted what she did.” </p><p>Marinette looks at Tikki incredulously. “Chloe? Regret?” </p><p>“She did ask you to expose Lila with her, after all.” </p><p>Marinette shakes her head. “Chloe wants to take down Lila for her own means,” she explains, but the more she speaks, the more it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself and not Tikki. “I mean, there’s many reasons why Chloe can’t stand Lila. Maybe one of them is because Lila’s claiming to be Ladybug’s best friend, but it’s not—it’s not because Chloe <em> cares </em>about me. It’s just because she doesn’t want anyone else to have that title. That’s just… who Chloe is.” </p><p>Tikki listens to the whole ramble with a skeptic look all over her face. “Even after she betrayed Ladybug?” she asks, and Marinette hates how logical her kwami is. “You have to admit that it’s rather out of character for her to do something like that.” </p><p>Marinette huffs. “Well, you know Chloe. Even if she hates something, she can’t stand someone else having it. Why are you pursuing this anyway, Tikki?”</p><p>Tikki settles in front of Marinette on her pillow. “There’s more to someone than you think there is,” she replies simply, vaguely. “Chloe Bourgeois is human as well. You said it once: she has a heart, she just doesn’t know how to use it.” </p><p>There’s nothing inherently wrong about defending Chloe, but Marinette’s irritability rises, as well as her frustration. “She’s had plenty of chances to use it,” she snaps. “And <em> look </em>where her heart landed me.” </p><p>Tikki’s expression softens. She opens her mouth to speak, but Marinette doesn’t let her. She barrels on, even though she knows it’s wrong. “Look,” she continues, “where Chloe’s heart landed Master Fu. And the rest of my team—Alya, Nino, Luka, <em> everyone. </em> Why did <em> I </em>have to pay for everyone else’s mistakes?” </p><p>It’s wrong to blame Chloe. Or so Marinette tells herself. But why  can’t she? Why can’t she pin all this misfortune, all this fear, all this stress on Chloe, because it truly <em> is </em>Chloe’s fault? </p><p>It’s so much easier just to do that. But deep down, Marinette knows all too well—the blame can just as well be on Chat, on Master Fu, on <em> anyone— </em> and it won’t change a thing about her own situation. Nothing can change the fact that Master Fu is gone and she’s the guardian, no matter <em> who </em>bears the blame. </p><p>“Tikki,” Marinette whispers. All the fight drains out of her, leaving nothing but defeat. “Do I have to forgive her?”</p><p>“Oh, Marinette.” Tikki presses a paw on her chosen’s cheek. “No, you don’t have to force yourself to forgive her. But maybe first start with understanding her.” </p><p><em> Understanding. </em>That, maybe, Marinette can try to do. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Marinette dutifully finishes homework, helps her parents chop the vegetables for dinner, then returns in hopes of working on her designs. She spends half an hour calling Alya, who is freaking out about having missed Impastar’s attack, before returning to her sketchbook. One very prominent text sits in the back of Marinette’s head even as she works: the one she had sent to Adrien hours ago asking if he were fine. After all, the akuma attack had been on his shoot. </p><p>There’s no reply for an hour, then two. By the third hour, Marinette gives up checking her phone for it. Maybe she’s being dumb—just because they’d texted until three last night didn’t mean anything. Just because she brought him food from the bakery for lunch didn’t mean anything. Just because—</p><p>“Tikki,” Marinette whines. “Why isn’t Adrien replying?” </p><p>Tikki, holding a cookie that’s larger than her, shrugs. “He could be busy,” she suggests. </p><p>“What if he’s ignoring me because he doesn’t like me?” </p><p>“Marinette, trust me, Adrien—eek!” </p><p>The cookie drops onto the table as Tikki zooms into a hiding spot. A little surprised, Marinette looks up from her sketchbook just in time for a <em> thump </em>to sound on her roof. </p><p>Tikki pokes her head out for a split second. “Chat Noir,” she whispers before disappearing again. </p><p>Marinette takes in the state of her room. There are ribbons tangled haphazardly from when she had tried to measure lengths, there’s fabric on the floor, and a pair of rather sharp scissors are sitting on the ground. She winces. Her room is a <em> mess.  </em></p><p>Then again, it’s Chat. Pulling on a sweater, Marinette climbs up the ladder that leads to the skylight. </p><p>Chat Noir is sitting on the railing like he usually does. For once, though, his outfit isn’t all black—instead, a blue and white sweater is zipped halfway over his suit. It <em> is </em>rather chilly, and although her skylight is nestled from the worst of the elements, she can hear the wind tearing at the other side of the building. </p><p>“Hey,” Marinette greets him. </p><p>His green eyes track her for a couple of seconds before he hops off the railing. Seeing him, Marinette can’t help but remember the way he’d attacked Impastar, the frightened, defeated manner he’d clung to her after the battle was finished. </p><p>“Are you okay?” she asks. </p><p>Wordlessly, Chat shakes his head. He’s quiet for once, one of the biggest signs that something is wrong. Instead of the usual jokes or puns, he just stands there, like he’s waiting for something but is too scared to ask for it. </p><p>Marinette opens her arms, and Chat tumbles right into them. </p><p>His grip around her is tight, and his whole body is surprisingly cold. Marinette wonders how long he’s been outside. Chat clings to her like he’s holding onto dear life, head buried in her shoulder as he draws long, deep breaths. Slowly, Marinette lifts a hand to his head and runs her fingers through untameable locks of hair. “It’s okay,” she whispers, and his breath hitches. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.” </p><p>With those words, Chat breaks down. It’s quiet sniffling in the beginning, like he’s still trying to hold back the tears, before he’s weeping and his body is wracked with sobs. Marinette can feel his nails digging in—enough to sting, but not enough to truly hurt—as his grip tightens. </p><p>She lets him cry, combing fingers through his hair or patting at his back, although she’s still trying to wrap her mind around <em> why. </em>Chat Noir has had his moments, but thinking back, she’s never seen him cry. Not completely. Not so… brokenly. </p><p>But he’s done the same for her—been a steady, solid anchor when she felt lost, and Marinette resolves that she will be strong for him. </p><p>Marinette isn’t sure how long they stand outside for, but when Chat finally calms down, the chill is creeping into her bones too. She lets him catch his breath, feels him lift his head, before she pulls away. </p><p>“Feeling better?” Marinette asks. </p><p>Chat sniffles again, but he gives her a teary eyed smile. “I’m—I’m sorry.” </p><p>“There’s nothing to apologize for.” </p><p>“Your sweater is wet now.” </p><p>She looks at her shoulder; indeed, there’s a spot where his tears have soaked through. Marinette shrugs. “Probably wasn’t as bad as me crying. I have to wash this anyway.” </p><p>Chat Noir’s laugh sounds again, shaky but a little more confident. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats. “That was—that was embarrassing.” </p><p>“There’s… nothing embarrassing about being sad or overwhelmed.” </p><p>Green eyes meet hers, and Marinette’s once again reminded of just how <em> nicely </em>she can fall down, down, down into those eyes, and—</p><p>“Come down!” she practically shrieks. “It’s warmer in my room. Can’t have you catching a cold.” </p><p>She practically flees down the ladder, cursing how her face feels warm. This is <em> Chat Noir, </em> Marinette reminds herself as he follows her down into her room. Her partner, her friend, and that was it. Alya must’ve affected her with all the talk of flirting, and Marinette is determined <em> not </em> to be affected any further. </p><p>Chat glances around her room. He’s still wiping his wet cheeks, and Marinette trips over an open sketchbook as she tries to bring him tissues. </p><p>“It’s messier than I expected,” he jokes when she rips a piece of measured ribbon from the tape that’s holding it up. </p><p>Marinette snatches the tissue box up and chucks it at him. He barely glances at it before catching. “Ungrateful cat.” </p><p>He sticks his tongue out at her. Grabbing a new sweater and a blanket from her closet, Marinette heads back to where he’s standing. “Do you… want to talk about it?” she finally asks as he finishes wiping his eyes. </p><p>Chat freezes. Marinette’s panic that she once again said the wrong thing kicks in. Before she can have a complete breakdown, he mumbles, “Ladybug got hurt today.” </p><p>It’s Marinette’s turn to freeze. Then she realizes that he doesn’t know that <em> she’s </em>Ladybug. “Oh,” she manages out. “I heard—I saw it on the news.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Chat mumbles. “It was terrifying. I saw the akuma hit her, and he was about to strike her again when Chl—when someone managed to distract it. And Ladybug’s been off recently, but…” He gave her a wince. “Never mind. It’s not my place to share.” </p><p>Curiosity piqued, Marinette asks as casually as possible, “Is Ladybug doing okay?” </p><p>“I don’t know.” The reply is straightforward, quick, and honest. Then he straightens. “But I mean it when I say that it’s not my place to say.” A grin stretches on his face. “Even if you <em> are </em>my favourite.” </p><p>Marinette has to hide her face so he doesn’t see her smile. “That’s fair,” she replies. “Is that…is Ladybug the only . reason you’re upset, then?” </p><p>Her question is answered by silence. Marinette fumbles for a couple cushions before she realizes he still hasn’t said a thing and such a long period of quiet is a clear indication that something is still off. “Chat?” </p><p>When she looks back at him, he’s standing, unmoving, in the middle of the room. Despite the blue sweater, the black of his suit stands out starkly in her bedroom, where everything is bright and cheerful and vibrant. He looks lost, Marinette realizes. Chat Noir is lost—no, the boy underneath the suit is lost, with nowhere else to go. And somehow, that’s brought him to her. </p><p>Chat Noir is lost, and, she thinks, so is she. What a pair they make, mask or no mask. </p><p>“My father,” Chat says at last, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s silly. I was supposed to eat dinner with him tonight, but he’s put it off again. He’s always too busy to see me, and no matter <em> what </em>I do, it’s as if… it’s as if he no longer cares if I’m there or not.” A shaky, mocking laugh makes its way past his lips. “God, I’m pathetic. It’s just a dinner. It’s not like it would’ve been good either way, because it’s not like we talk when we eat, and I know it’s stupid to be disappointed but—” </p><p>He’s rambling at this point, words tumbled out in a barely coherent mess. While Marinette loses track of what he’s speaking about, there’s one thing that’s become abundantly clear. </p><p>“Chat,” she interrupts. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten a meal with your father?” </p><p>He looks up at her. “What?” </p><p>“How long has it been?” Marinette repeats. </p><p>He pauses. He has to <em> think. </em> He’s <em> counting. </em>Part of Marinette dreads the answer he’s about to give. </p><p>“Twenty seven days,” Chat finally confesses. </p><p>Marinette swears her whole body freezes. Shock, horror, and then sympathy rush through her like a torrent all at once, the words taking their sweet time to sink in. <em> Twenty seven days.  </em></p><p>All of a sudden, she can see another boy underneath the mask. One who constantly strived for approval, for attention, for <em> love, </em> and it all makes much more sense. How eager he had always been to see her, the way his face lit up. The way he had asked her—asked <em> Ladybug— </em>to eat a meal with him, or to watch a movie, and the dejection of having been rejected. Like puzzle pieces, they tumble into their respective places, painting a darker, sadder image of the bright boy in front of her. </p><p>Marinette had always taken meals with her family for granted. Sabine, always insistent that they eat every meal together, forced Marinette to do so whether or not she was busy. Breakfast and dinner on school days, and all three meals on the weekends—it was never anything Marinette looked forward to. It just <em> was </em>. </p><p>Yet Chat Noir hasn’t shared a meal with his father for nearly a month. And Marinette’s heart breaks for him. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she whispers, because it’s all she can say. Even though so many more words build up at her throat, Marinette can’t articulate any of them. So she repeats: “I’m sorry.” </p><p>Chat blinks rapidly, eyes misting once again. “It’s—it’s nothing.” </p><p>Marinette takes a deep breath in. Then out. Suddenly, a memory pops up: sitting with Chat Noir overlooking the Seine, the way he had dipped his head into her line of sight and grinned, all sharp teeth. <em> Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.  </em></p><p>“Chat,” she says. “I don’t know everything about your family’s situation, but if your dad can’t see how <em> paw</em>some you are, then here’s seriously missing out. I’m so <em> fur</em>tunate to have you as a friend, and I’m sure everyone else who knows you, including Ladybug, would say the same.” </p><p>There’s radio silence. Marinette’s face is flaming, and she’s certain that she’s never felt more embarrassed. When she peers at Chat Noir, he’s gaping at her, jaw slack. </p><p>Marinette contemplates crawling into a corner and crying. </p><p>When the stillness becomes too much, Marinette nearly screeches, “Forget it—” </p><p>“Oh my <em> God,” </em> Chat Noir cuts in before she can finish. When she summons enough courage to meet his gaze, his eyes are practically sparkling. “You’re <em> amazing.”  </em></p><p>That effectively shuts her panic (and brain) down. It’s not the reply Marinette had been expecting, so she gapes at him. “I’m <em> what?”  </em></p><p>His face brightens even more. “You’re amazing,” Chat gushes. “Ladybug never responds to my puns. This is—” He beams. “Can you say it again?” </p><p>“No!” Marinette sputtered. “No! I’m—” She huffs. “I was going to suggest we watch a movie. Wait here, and I’ll get some food. We’re going to watch a movie.” </p><p>She flees the room before Chat can protest, but the wide smile on his face doesn’t leave her mind. </p><p>When she returns to her room with a mixed bowl of chips and more leftover pastries for him, Chat has wandered from the middle of her room to look at the photos that Marinette has pinned on her wall. They’re mainly an assortment of her classmates, although he lingers on one picture in particular: the one in the middle, with her and Adrien. </p><p>“That’s Adrien Agreste,” he notes conversationally as Marinette sets down the food. “You’re friends with him?”</p><p>Marinette, delighted that he’s moved on from her terrible embarrassing puns, starts to arrange the cushions and blankets. “Yeah. We talked about this last time, didn’t we?” </p><p>“... yeah,” Chat says. There’s something about his tone that seems strange, but Marinette can’t place a finger on why. “He’s not <em> that </em>cute, though.” </p><p>Marinette nearly knocks over the bowl of chips. “What?”</p><p>Chat presses his lips together. “Uh, never mind. Movie?” </p><p>Marinette stares at him like he’s grown a second head until he concedes, “I guess Adrien is average.” </p><p>“You’ve got to be <em> blind,” </em>she sputters. “Where’s all this confidence coming from?” </p><p>He snorts. “Princess, I can assure you I’m <em> so </em> much better looking than Adrien Agreste underneath the mask. It’s just too bad you won’t be able to see.” </p><p>“Better looking my ass,” Marinette mumbles under her breath, then decides not to entertain Chat’s ego for any longer. She drags him down onto the floor next to her, against the fort of blankets and pillows, then drapes the last one around his shoulders. She ignores the look of surprise he gives her, focussing all her energy on tucking the blanket in around him, before pressing the play button on her laptop. </p><p>Chat’s shock soon melts into a smile. They sit, legs touching ever so slightly, arm against arm, warmth against warmth. Chat leans into her more, and Marinette does the same. </p><p>The screen flashes. </p><p>“Mean Girls,” Chat Noir laughs—<em> laughs, </em>this time; not the mocking, self-deprecating laugh but a real laugh. The sort that speaks of sunshine and better days. “Good choice, Mari.” </p><p>The way he says <em> Mari </em>is full of affection and fondness, a tone which she’s not quite accustomed hearing her name in. </p><p>Both of them are smiling before the movie even starts. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Come find me on tumblr at <a href="https://e-milieeee.tumblr.com/">e-milieeee!</a></p><p>Thank you all for being so lovely in the comments :) I really enjoy reading all of your thoughts! Once again, feedback is very much appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Filling his lungs to their full capacity, he lets out a full body exhale. The strangely familiar smell of apples and vanilla still seems to cling to him, but Chat can’t place a finger on just why it smells like home. Marinette and… </p><p>His mind draws a blank, and even though he knows there’s a word—a name, maybe—that sits in the place of that blank, Chat doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it. With one swing of his baton, he’s plummeting from the skylight, then vaulting over Paris. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some Chlodemption :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s something familiar all around Chat Noir that he can’t place a finger on, but it’s pleasant and amazing and he doesn’t want it to go away. </p><p>Eyes still closed, he tries to lean into the touch more. A hand is tangled in his hair and it feels wondrously nice, soothing, and the smell of apples and vanilla reminds him of Ladybug—</p><p>His eyes fly open. Even in his half asleep, hazy state, Chat remembers where he is: Marinette’s room, halfway through watching their third movie, and… </p><p><em> Oh </em>. The laptop screen is dark now, running on a screensaver, and the huge bowl of chips and plate of pastries has been completely devoured. Chat blinks, still disoriented, and turns in his position. </p><p>He’s lying over Marinette’s lap, her fingers twisted in his hair, head leant back against the wall. She’s snoring lightly, one of her pigtails undone, mouth slightly open. </p><p>It’s cute. She’s cute. <em> Marinette </em>is cute. And, what’s more, Marinette thinks he, Adrien Agreste, is cute. </p><p>Suddenly much more awake than before, Chat untangles himself from Marinette, doing his best not to wake her. To his relief, she doesn’t stir even as he bumps her clumsily, still fast asleep when he finally rises to his feet. Carefully, Chat slips an arm under her shoulders so he can ease her down with as little movement as possible, until she’s lying on the fort of pillows and blankets they’ve ruled. He drapes the duvet, previously on his shoulders, onto her instead. </p><p>The only source of brightness in the room is the small night light Marinette keeps plugged in one corner of the room, a moon that shines a pale yellow, casting more shadows than light across the room. Still, everything is bright as day with his night vision, and Chat picks his way cautiously around the room to leave from the skylight. </p><p>It’s only when he’s outside once again that he dares to stop holding his breath. Chat winces at the sudden drop in temperature—even though his suit protects him from extremities in weather <em> and </em>he’s wearing an extra layer overtop, the difference from the warmth of Marinette’s room is hard to ignore. Still, it’s like some of Marinette’s warmth has permanently wrapped around him, cocooning his body from the wind and his heart from loneliness all the same. She has a certain brand of kindness that chases away all terrible things. Maybe the empty house and frightfully big room won’t be quite as bad after this, Chat thinks. And for once, he truly believes it. </p><p>When he checks his baton for the time, it reads: <em> 4:32 AM.  </em></p><p>Chat groans. Tomorrow—no, today—is a school day, which means waking up at seven thirty is going to be more exhausting than usual.</p><p>Filling his lungs to their full capacity, he lets out a full body exhale. The strangely familiar smell of apples and vanilla still seems to cling to him, but Chat can’t place a finger on just <em> why </em>it smells like home. Marinette and… </p><p>His mind draws a blank, and even though he knows there’s a word—a name, maybe—that sits in the place of that blank, Chat doesn’t allow himself to dwell on it. With one swing of his baton, he’s plummeting from the skylight, then vaulting over Paris. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Adrien is not well-rested when he gets to class, but his spirits are still high. He smiles brightly at Marinette, who, for once, isn’t late. </p><p>She smiles back, although much more reserved than the girl he had cried against, laughed with, <em> lived </em>with last night. As he sits down in his seat, she asks, “Are you okay?”</p><p><br/>Adrien swears his heart stops. Her words are a phantom imitation of the ones from the night before, when she had stood in front of him, her skylight shielding him from the cold, her presence shielding him from loneliness. Terror surges through him. Does she <em> know?  </em></p><p>“Okay?” he echoes, trying to maintain a steady tone. “What do you mean?” </p><p>Marinette frowns. “I heard there was an akuma attack yesterday when you were modelling.” </p><p>Oh. <em> Oh. </em>Adrien’s forgotten all about it, but it’s a reminder all the same. Lila hasn’t arrived yet, but when he sees her… </p><p>“I’m okay,” he responds at last. “I didn’t really get caught up in the attack.” <em> Wrong. </em>“You weren’t close by, were you?” </p><p>Marinette shakes her head. “I heard that there was a flying spaghetti monster?” </p><p>“I don’t even know how that happened,” he laughs. Hearing her say it in such a skeptical manner washes away some of the terror, replacing it with amusement. There’s something about Marinette—the way she speaks—that brings him to ease, even if ease is the last thing Adrien wants to feel about yesterday. </p><p>As if on cue, the door to the classroom swings open and Lila steps inside. The moment he sees her, he stiffens. </p><p>Lila, shouting a false warning at Ladybug out of what? Spite? Hate? Jealousy? Adrien can’t even <em> begin </em> to guess what the full extent of her reasoning is. Or does she even <em> have </em> reasoning? She’d nearly gotten Marinette akumatized, <em> did </em>get her expelled—and for what? All because Marinette didn’t fall for Lila’s tricks? </p><p>She moves with the same grace and certainty as the facade she plays, not the least bit guilty that she played a <em> huge </em>role in nearly killing someone. </p><p>Adrien doesn’t even realize how hard he’s glaring at her until she stops in front of his desk, face in an expression of faux sweetness. “Adrien?” she asks. “Is there something you want to say to me?” </p><p><em> Yes, </em> there’s something he wants to say. He wants to so badly—wants to stand up, tell the class of what she’s done. God, what <em> wouldn’t </em> Adrien give to somehow hurt her like she’s hurt Marinette, to make sure she <em> never </em>comes close to the people he cares about, to wipe away all of the misfortune and pain and hurt she’s caused and—</p><p>But he doesn’t. None of the words come out except an automatic smile. “No,” he replies. </p><p>“Oh.” Lila blinks. “You were looking at me strangely, that’s all. Are <em> you </em>okay after the akuma attack? It must’ve been shocking, seeing your photographer get akumatized. Thank goodness Ladybug and Chat Noir were there. It could’ve gone so much worse.” </p><p>Every word that comes out of her mouth makes him feel a little more sick in the stomach, until he’s half-intent on excusing himself out. How <em> dare </em> she play such a disgusting game? How <em> dare </em> she claim that she’s even <em> friends </em> with Ladybug, when she had tried to <em> kill </em>her? How can she say such things so convincingly? That, out of everything, scares Adrien the most—the fact that Lila is so convincing that he would’ve believed if he hadn’t caught her red handed in the first place. </p><p>From her carefully crafted words, half the class is already rushing to Lila, asking if she’s okay from the akuma attack. </p><p>“It’s nothing,” Lila says. The crowd follows her as she heads to her seat. “I was hurt a little when it started, but I’ve sprained my ankles plenty before, so it’ll be okay.” </p><p>Another outbreak of noise follows at the news her sprained ankle. Adrien snorts. At least Alya isn't one of the many by her side. Adrien takes comfort in the fact that she's sitting next to Marinette, arms folded, not bothering to hide her glare at Lila. </p><p>Mme. Bustier enters the classroom, and after a couple of moments, order is restored once more. </p><p>Adrien turns to face the blackboard, although he can’t focus. Lila invades his thoughts like a plague, and he knows that he won’t be able to rest easy until the situation with her is solved, one way or another. </p><p>It’s just a question of how. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Adrien leaves the classroom to refill his water bottle at noon, Lila corners him. </p><p>He’s not particularly surprised, but even though he’s expecting her, a wave of anger still rises in his stomach, and Adrien struggles to quell it. He can’t afford snapping at her now. So instead, Adrien plasters on his blandest smile. “Yeah?” he asked, as amicably as possible. </p><p>She joins his side in filling up her water. “I just wanted to remind you.” Her voice is still sickly sweet, like poison slowly oozing down into his mouth, through his ears, <em> everywhere. </em> Adrien clenches and unclenches his fist on the side of him that she cannot see. “You <em> do </em>remember our deal, right?” </p><p>Ladybug—resourceful, brilliant Ladybug—lying on the ground, unmoving. Marinette—kind, considerate, strong Marinette—sobbing into her hands. <em> She caused that.  </em></p><p>Adrien swallows down the rage. He carefully files the images and the anger back down deeper in his mind, but not so far that he can’t bring it up again when he needs it. <em> Now is not the time.  </em></p><p>“I do,” he replies. “Do <em> you?”  </em></p><p>Lila’s hand goes to rest on his chest, and Adrien stiffens. She leans forward. </p><p>To any bystander watching, it’s an intimate position. To Adrien, his skin crawls in protest and disgust. He wants to pull back, wants to shower and scrub until even the ghost of her touch is gone from him, but he doesn’t move. He <em> can’t. </em> Adrien tells himself over and over that he can’t expose himself and Chloe and Marinette until he’s certain Lila can’t hurt them anymore, until he has <em> her </em>cornered and not the other way around—but it doesn’t help the sick feeling that rises to his throat. </p><p>“Adrien,” she says quietly, voice still silky-smooth. “Just don’t step out of line, and I won’t either. Wouldn’t want your <em> friend </em>Marinette to get hurt again, would you?” </p><p>Her hand lingers on his chest a little too long. Lila smiles at him, her fingers trailing down his chest, before she turns on her heel and stalks away. </p><p>Adrien stares after her numbly, brain barely processing what had just happened. First confusion, followed by white-hot rage that threatens to spill over. Then disgust at Lila, at himself, and suddenly, he has trouble breathing. </p><p>He <em> knows. </em>For the whole time, he’s known that she’s a liar, yet he’s let her run free. And now it’s gotten to this point… can he even do anything? Just like Chat Noir had been unable to save Ladybug yesterday, maybe Adrien Agreste can only do so much for Marinette—</p><p>“Hey,” a small voice whispers, and Adrien manages to look down to see Plagg peeking up from inside his shirt. “Don’t let her get to you, you idiot.” </p><p>Before he can respond, a familiar voice calls, “<em> Adrikins!”  </em></p><p>“Hide!” Adrien hisses at Plagg before whipping around to look at Chloe. “Hey!” he exclaims, a little too loudly. </p><p>She looks at him with an arched eyebrow, arms folded in front of her chest. “What did Lila say to you? Is she onto you or something?” </p><p>Adrien’s skin tingles at the mention of her name. “I don’t think so,” he replies. “She’s just…” He trails off. Chloe doesn’t know about the deal he made with Lila in order to get Marinette back in school. <em> No one </em>does. </p><p>But they’re working together, aren’t they? Even if his feelings towards Chloe are as mixed as ever, there’s no denying that yes, she’s been his longest friend, and yes, she <em> did </em>save Ladybug yesterday. </p><p>“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” Adrien finally decides, schooling himself into taking deep breaths and breathing normally. “There’s… a lot to explain.” </p><p>Chloe shoots him a look that Adrien’s well acquainted with, but she doesn’t question him any further. </p><p>Half a minute later, Adrien finds himself sitting next to Chloe on one of the benches, overlooking the courtyard. Neither of them speak, and an awkward silence blankets them. It’s strange how things have turned out this way, Adrien thinks. For so long, it’s always been him and Chloe—as his one and only friend, most of their friendship had consisted of him following her demands. Now… Adrien doesn’t know where they stand. It’s not the same as a year ago, and there’s so many things between them that have remained unspoken and unsolved, piled up through the years. </p><p>Summoning the last shreds of his courage, Adrien begins, “I kind of made a deal with Lila in order to get Marinette back into school.” </p><p>“Dupain-Cheng?” Chloe all but shrieks, and Adrien claps his hands over her mouth. Her blue eyes remain wide, but she grabs his hand and peels it away from her face. “You made a deal with the devil just so <em> Dupain-Cheng </em>could go back to school?” </p><p>Adrien scowls at her. “Say it louder. I’m not sure if they heard you the first time.” </p><p>She scowls right back. “So what does <em> your </em>end of the deal entail, genius?” </p><p>“I let her do her thing.” </p><p>“Which is?” </p><p><em> Which is? </em>Adrien’s never fully thought about it. At the time, his only thought had been Marinette and how to bring her back. The consequences have since radiated, with Lila poisoning the entire class, until they were manipulated, one by one. </p><p>“I seemed to be the right thing to do at the time,” Adrien mumbles meekly. “I thought that I could keep her in check, and her lies would never hurt anyone. But yesterday…” </p><p>Chloe physically stiffens at the mention of <em> yesterday. </em> Adrien barrels on. “Lila tried to <em> kill </em>Ladybug. Or severely hurt her, at least. You saw, didn’t you? I can’t just sit back and let her do whatever she wants anymore.” </p><p>His friend’s face is tight. “Yeah. So much for being best friends with Ladybug. I knew she was a bitch, but...” Chloe huffs. “Damn.” </p><p>Speaking of Ladybug… Adrien blurts it out before he can stop himself. “You saved Ladybug.” </p><p>Chloe freezes for a fraction of a second, then her expression twists. “Only because if Ladybug was out of commission, she couldn’t save us all,” she snaps back. “She shouldn’t have been so stupid to listen to Lila’s warning. It was irresponsible.” </p><p>Adrien knows that it’s probably not the best idea to push Chloe, especially when she’s been so unpredictable the last couple of weeks since her akumatization to Miracle Queen, but he still asks, “Are you sure that’s all?” </p><p>“That’s <em> all,” </em>Chloe snaps sharply. “What are you trying to get at, Adrien?” </p><p>All of Adrien screams at him to back down. For all of his anger and frustration, if there’s one thing he’s terrible at, it’s confrontation. With his father, with Lila, with <em> anyone. </em> But Miracle Queen or not, Chloe’s one of his closest friends, and he <em> wants </em> to believe that she can be better. He <em> wants </em>to believe that the Queen Bee who fought off Hawkmoth and Mayura is still there, capable of change and remorse. So, despite his discomfort, he continues. “I want to know if you felt sorry for what you did when Hawkmoth last akumatized you. You claimed you hate Ladybug, but I don’t think—” </p><p>“I <em> do!” </em> Chloe suddenly shrieks at him. Around them, people glance at them before quickly turning away. “I <em> hate </em> Ladybug! She never cared about me and never did. I <em> didn’t do it for her, so stop saying I did!”  </em></p><p>She glares at Adrien, blue eyes burning, as if daring him to contradict her again. While Chloe has had her tantrums, she’s never spoken to him in such a tone. Shock thrums through Adrien, quickly replaced by a tingle of terror. He <em> hates </em> upsetting people, he’s terrified of getting on <em> anyone’s </em> bad side, and for a frightfully long second, he wonders if perhaps Chloe hates <em> him </em>now too. </p><p>Then he sees the tears in her eyes. She’s still glaring at him, but her eyes are glassy. Then she sniffs. A tear trickles down. </p><p>“Chloe—” Adrien begins, reaching out. </p><p>Chloe shoves his hand away. “Leave me alone.” </p><p>With another quiet sniffle, she gets up and storms in the other direction, leaving Adrien standing in the hallway by himself. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think Chloe hates Ladybug.” </p><p>Plagg, holding an entire wheel of camembert, pauses his eating just so he can raise his eyebrow at Adrien. “Oh?” </p><p>“She doesn’t,” Adrien continues, though he’s half musing to himself. “I’ve—I’ve known Chloe for years, and she rarely cries about things like these. I think she wants Ladybug to forgive her, but can’t summon the courage to ask.” </p><p>“Does that <em> change </em>anything?” Plagg asks.</p><p>Adrien sits back to consider. Does it? So maybe it means that Chloe—even Chloe—is capable of change and remorse. But what now? It doesn’t really help him and Ladybug, but… </p><p>“Yes,” he decided. “We’re taking Lila down, and it’ll be easier if we trust Chloe. Marinette doesn’t deserve Lila on her case for any longer.” </p><p>“And?” </p><p>“And?” </p><p>“Whatever you’re thinking about the Miraculous, kid, forget it.” </p><p>“How do you know I’m thinking about the Miraculous?” </p><p>“It's not that hard to read you after hanging around you for a year,” Plagg drawls. “You’re considering giving her back the Miraculous, aren’t you?” </p><p>“Chloe?” Adrien echoes. “No—!” </p><p>Plagg raises an eyebrow, waiting. Adrien finally sags. “Fine. I’ve considered if. Chloe was useful in the past, and if she’s proven we can trust her, we need all the backup possible. I’ve been meaning to talk to Ladybug about giving Miraculous to more people—just different people—so we can have more backup against Hawkmoth. After what happened yesterday, I think we’ll need all the help we can get.” </p><p>“That’s up to the guardian to decide.” </p><p>“I <em> know! </em>But I just want to make sure Ladybug has all the help she can get, especially now, and—” Adrien’s gaze flickers to the time on his phone and jolts. “Oh my god. I was supposed to meet Ladybug twelve minutes ago.” </p><p>Plagg gives him a look of defeat as if to say, <em> why do I bother? </em>“Can I finish my camembert?” he asks, pointing at the half-eaten wheel. </p><p>“No!” </p><p>Another sigh of resignation. Plagg gives his cheese one last longing glance before letting out a huff. “Alright, kid,” he grumbles. “Let’s go.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are much appreciated! </p><p>Find me on <a href="https://e-milieeee.tumblr.com/">tumblr!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Ladybug,” he mumbles into her shoulders. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right? I’m not kidding. I always thought karma handed me some shitty life and it would just go down from there, but then I became Chat Noir and I met you and you’re—” His grip tightens on her. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im sorry abt this chapter but the next is sadder lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chat Noir is, like usual, late. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug isn’t particularly surprised that her partner is tardy, but she </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he drops down next to her holding a box of chocolates, although she supposes <em>that </em>shouldn't really come as a surprise either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For my lady,” he says as he places it into her lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette looks up at him. “You expect me to patrol across Paris holding this, kitty?” she teases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To her surprise, he actually looks slightly distressed. “I didn’t think of that,” Chat apologizes. “I can hold it for you if you’d like—” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaton. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m just kidding.” She pats the ground next to her, and Ladybug is once again reminded of the boy who had found her the night before, who had cried with such anguish that her own heart still ached thinking of it. His father had cancelled dinner on him. He hadn’t shared a meal with his father for </span>
  <em>
    <span>twenty seven days. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to offer comfort to him now without giving away her identity and how she even knows, but Ladybug still wants to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Guilt gnaws at her for not knowing these things—she calls him her partner, her best friend, yet it was as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette </span>
  </em>
  <span>that she truly had gotten to understand him a little more. Behind the flirtations, behind the joking and actions for her attention that she had dismissed was someone lonelier and much less fortunate than she was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she extends her hand to him. Chat Noir stares at her in confusion for a couple of moments before slowly, hesitantly, slipping his hand into hers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t go on patrol right away. Instead, hand in hand, they sit on the edge of the rooftops and watch as the sun sinks lower and lower on the horizon, dying the sky brilliant shades of red and orange and pink. Ladybug doesn’t speak—she doesn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say to her partner—but he seems to be content like that, she lets it be for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a sort of peace that she needs as well. With everything that’s been going on at school, with Chloe and Lila and the increasing akuma attacks, it’s moments in between like these that Ladybug has to admit she loves the most. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir ends up breaking the silence. “I thought you were going to die that day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t let go of her hand when she turns to look at him. “With Impastar?” Ladybug asks carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I saw the way he—when you hit the wall, I couldn’t stop thinking about how at the end of the day both of us are still human under the suit, and you could die just as easily as… just that, you know? And I tried to move but I couldn’t and I was so scared—”  The words come tumbling out, faster and faster, until he seems to give up saying them altogether and settles with grasping her shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smells of pine and wind and something fresh, and Ladybug closes her eyes and wraps her arms around Chat Noir as well. Her partner. Her best friend. Her…words couldn’t describe what he was, what they were to each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug,” he mumbles into her shoulders. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right? I’m not kidding. I always thought karma handed me some shitty life and it would just go down from there, but then I became Chat Noir and I met you and you’re—” His grip tightens on her. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart swells and breaks at those words. She knows he means them now, with all his heart and earnestness, but to accept them is another thing. Her, clumsy, forgetful Marinette; impatient, incompetent Ladybug—it’s a title she can’t help but wonder if she deserves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaton,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>says Ladybug, trying her hardest to keep the tremor from her voice. “You have no idea how grateful I am to have you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body shakes as he laughs. “Glad it makes two of us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll always be the two of us, kitty.” Then, leaning back, she asks, “You’re feeling better, right? From yesterday?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir blinks. “You mean the akuma attack?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods. “Turns out a good cry works wonders,” he reassures. “I, uh, have a friend who I go see sometimes as Chat Noir, and she really helped me feel better.” He nudges her. “Only when you’re not around, My Lady. Don’t be jealous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, if only he knew. Ladybug settles with smiling at him. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>wish </span>
  </em>
  <span>I were jealous,” she shoots back. “But seriously, Chat, I’m glad you have someone to go to. I mean it. I wish I could be there more, but…can’t be Ladybug all the time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay!” he replies, and Ladybug’s relieved that he sounds as if he genuinely means it. “I know you’re busy with other stuff. Honestly, I am too. We have finals coming up in less than a month.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hawkmoth better stop the akuma attacks during that time,” she mumbles. “Man, imagine having to run out of the classroom with an excuse to transform during </span>
  <em>
    <span>final exams </span>
  </em>
  <span>just because Hawkmoth akumatized somebody.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knowing him, he probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>akumatize someone.” Chat makes a face. “All those exams, so little studying—that’s a perfect recipe for disaster.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remind me,” Ladybug groans. “I’m going to fail if he akumatizes someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat lets out a scandalized gasp. “My Lady? Fail? I didn’t know that was possible. Whatever shall I do now? My image of you has been forever ruined, and I don’t think I’ll be capable of functioning anymore with this horrifying fact—” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug can’t help the little laugh that tumbles out her mouth. “All right, drama queen,” she says. “We’ve been sitting here for too long. Let’s finish the patrol.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They finish up patrol early, and just as Ladybug is about to bid Chat farewell and call it a night, he stops her from swinging home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think it’s time we give the Miraculous to others?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug freezes at the question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat gauges her reaction immediately, because he raises his hands in a placating gesture, an expression of both concern and fear on his face. “Sorry. I don’t mean to push. It’s just—with everything that’s been happening, I can’t help but notice you haven’t called anyone else to use the Miraculous. And I know that it’s because Hawkmoth knows their identities so it's not safe, but… we could give them different ones?” Chat looks at her imploringly. “You’re the guardian now and it’s your choice, but that would put a little less strain on us both and—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want that many Miraculous out in other hands,” Ladybug interrupts before he can finish, although it’s mainly fear that’s fueling her words. Any topic on the guardian is still instantly touchy for her, and while she can’t necessarily tell him, there’s an unbidden terror that rises every time she so much as thinks about the Miracle Box. “We’ve been doing fine right now, though. Hawkmoth hasn’t yet sent an akuma that we haven’t been able to handle, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir looks at her in a way that is the opposite of </span>
  <em>
    <span>right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“My Lady,” he says gently. “It’s been the two of us since the beginning, and that won’t change, but we can’t just keep defeating the akumas. We need to weed it out at the source, which means we need to take the fight to Hawkmoth.” He rests his hands on her shoulder, looking at her with such </span>
  <em>
    <span>concern </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Ladybug’s resolve almost wavers. “I know you miss Master Fu. I do too. But his rules were his rules, and now that you’re the guardian, it’s your choice. And maybe… some of the rules he made weren’t exactly right for the situations we’re in right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Fu’s rules were there for a reason,” Ladybug hears her tell Chat Noir, even though his words have grown louder and louder in her head and she can’t help but think that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> and she's so afraid that he's right. </span>
  <span>“I—I think he had a point that the Miraculous shouldn’t be in other people’s hands. Look at Hawkmoth and Chloe and—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Chat Noir dips into her line of vision. “Ladybug? It’s okay to be scared and I know how big a responsibility it is. But I’m just saying—we have the other Miraculous at our disposal, and perhaps it would be better if others got it. Even just one. If there’s anybody you know that you think would work well with a Miraculous and we could trust, maybe consider giving it to them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice is soothing, and Ladybug thinks she’s never been more thankful for her partner. Little by little, he edges away the petrifying fear, until she can—even if it’s just a little—breathe again. “I’ll consider,” Ladybug replies, and it’s the best she can manage out. “I just—I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>to trust now that Hawkmoth knows everybody’s identities.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat Noir frowns contemplatively. “Do you know Marinette?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug positively freezes. “Marinette?” she squeaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, designer? She’s the friend I was talking about that I went to see last night. It’s fine if you don’t want to, but I trust her and if you needed any recommendations on who to give the Miraculous too—” He trails off. “Wait, you gave her the mouse Miraculous once! You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>know her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug scrambles for an answer. “What she did with the mouse Miraculous was careless. I’m not sure—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she’d be a really good candidate.” Chat’s practically gushing now, and Ladybug isn’t sure if she should be flattered or confused. “I’m sure she’d have learned from the accident last time. You can trust Marinette, I’m sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll… see about it.” Ladybug forces herself to keep the smile from her face, even though it’s threatening to slip past. “Thanks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaton.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His face relaxes into a smile again. “I’m here for you,” he promises, and gives her hand one last squeeze. “Goodnight, m’lady.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Somebody’s looking happy,” Tikki teases when Marinette falls back into her bed. It’s late enough that she’s considering going straight to sleep, but apparently the smile on her face is a little too obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I?” Marinette jokes, even as the image of Chat Noir runs through her head again. “I’m just… glad to have such a good partner.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tikki gives her a small smile and pats her cheek. “I agree,” she chirps cheerfully. “Chat Noir definitely knows to surprise you in more than one way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I should keep accepting Chat Noir’s chocolates,” Lila bemoans at lunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette stifles her groan and digs into her lunch. The chocolates—the real ones that Chat had given her—are stashed in a plastic bag for dessert. Alya has agreed to stay quiet about Lila (“For now,” her best friend had snapped angrily, “but one day, I’m going to punch her. I swear.”), although it doesn’t stop the girl from fuming as the rest of the class crowds to hear Lila’s stories. In front of them, Adrien and Nino have left to fill up their water, and the only one who hasn’t been enraptured is Chloe, who’s tapping away at her phone without care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a good liar,” Marinette tells Alya just to placate her friend, who looks like she’s about to snap her pencil. “It’s not your fault she had you fooled, you know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought Chat Noir was going to give up on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ladybug!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alya groans. “Who in the right mind would give up on Ladybug?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette has to fight back the laugh. “Forget Ladybug, who would bring </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lila </span>
  </em>
  <span>chocolates?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien chooses that moment to return. He casts one look in Lila’s direction, a cloud passing over his face briefly, before he slides into his seat and waves at Marinette. She smiles back at him, then extends the plastic bag. “Chocolate?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien freezes for a split second before the smile returns to his face. “I’ll pass,” he grins. “Chocolate isn’t really my thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll </span>
  </em>
  <span>have one, thank you very much,” Alya replies. “These are </span>
  <em>
    <span>special </span>
  </em>
  <span>chocolates.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette feels her face heat up, but she still manages, “Adrien knows.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alya’s eyes widen. “You know?” she whispers to Adrien. “What are your thoughts about Marinette’s secret rendezvous’ with Paris’ superhero—”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alya!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Secret rendezvous?” Adrien asked. When he looks at Marinette, there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I knew he brought you chocolates, but what’s this about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s certain her face is beetroot now. “It’s not what you think,” she somehow manages to stammer out, then she curses herself for reverting back to the stuttering, red-faced mess she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>certain she had left behind. “Chat Noir and I are just—we’re just friends! Alya’s just blowing it out of proportion.” She elbows Alya. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Right, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alya?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alya rolls her eyes. “Sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To her horror, Adrien now looks curious. “Does he bring you chocolates a lot?” he asks. “So the ones you have right now are from Chat Noir?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette lets out a high pitched, nervous laugh. “Yup! I mean, not yes that he brings them a lot but these are from him and—he, um, gave these to me yesterday. But it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>frequent. We’re just kinda friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t think friends bring each other chocolate,” Alya muttered under her breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette grits her teeth. “I think they do,” she says between her teeth. “Chat’s considerate, that’s all. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>should start bringing me chocolates.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien is looking at her with a strange expression, and Marinette turns back to him and frowns slightly. “Are you okay?” she asks. “You look a little pale.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks quickly. “Huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, yeah.” Alya leans over her desk. “You look like you saw a ghost. Are you alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah.” Adrien smiles at them, but it’s now obviously distracted. “Chat brought you chocolates yesterday?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette takes one out of the bag. “Yeah.” Then she freezes. Chat Noir had brought </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ladybug </span>
  </em>
  <span>chocolates, but not Marinette—although that’s a detail she can easily hide. It’s not as if either of them had been on the rooftops with her when Chat had handed it to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she can question the strange expression on Adrien’s face anymore, it disappears, replaced by a slight smile. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else.” He turns to look at the door with a frown. “Nino was supposed to be back by now. I don’t know what’s taking him so long.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alya, hearing about her boyfriend, drops the topic of Chat Noir and leans in. “Where did he go?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Washroom, but it’s been ten minutes—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien is interrupted with a sharp </span>
  <em>
    <span>crash. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Someone around Lila lets out a frightened scream, and Marinette’s thrown right out of her seat and onto the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The people around Lila disperse into panic immediately. Kim shouts, “Akuma!” amidst the other yelling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette, with some effort, picks herself up from the ground. The building gives another shake, which elicits more shouts of fright. “I’m going to check it out,” she yells at Alya. “Stay here and calm the class down!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette doesn’t give her a chance to reply before she’s sprinting out the door. It's a stupid excuse this time, but her heart is pounding and she's beginning to wonder if everything Chat had told her the day before had been true. They <em>needed </em>another Miraculous wielder, full time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the courtyard is in similar chaos. A large crack has split it into two, but from what she can see, nobody is hurt. There’s panic everywhere, students are running but the akuma—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another crash throws Marinette completely off her feet. She slams into the ground, using her palms to break the fall, though the pain ends up shooting up her wrist instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s her experience as Ladybug that even allows her to pick herself up and turn around—right so she’s face to face with the akuma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A girl with dark hair hovers directly in front of her. Her bangs sweep over her eyes, but underneath, Marinette can see her eyes—or what </span>
  <em>
    <span>remains </span>
  </em>
  <span>of her eyes. Black, fathomless pits have replaced them, leaking a black liquid that drips all around her. A jolt of terror sweeps through her at the sight, sinking deep into her bones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette scrambles backwards as the painted lips twist into a smile and the arm, holding a small gun, raises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trigger is pulled before Marinette can so much as move out of the way as a bolt of black, inky liquid shoots out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And hits her. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>whooPS? </p><p>also slightly off topic but i started a beauty and the beast au! <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883835/chapters/57416452">check it out if you're interested!</a>  (there's prince chat noir :D and some mutual pining hoho) </p><p>find me on tumblr at <a href="https://e-milieeee.tumblr.com/">e-milieeee!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The reveal you've all been waiting for, except... only . kind of.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry i was gone for two weeks! got distracted by some other things (coughs atla)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Adrien is still putting two and two together when the school is rocked by an explosion. </p><p>He watches everything in a trance-like state. Marinette is thrown off her seat, but it barely deters her—instead, she scrambles to her feet like it’s an everyday thing, yelling words that disconnect in Adrien’s ears, and sprints out the door. </p><p>All the while, the only thing he can think about is how he hadn’t brought Marinette chocolates yesterday, but he <em> had </em>for Ladybug. </p><p>But that’s impossible, because he had seen Marinette as Multimouse, right <em> next to </em> Ladybug. Which leaves the possibility that Marinette’s lying, but Adrien doesn’t understand <em> why. </em>He trusts her enough to know that she’d have her reasons, but it’s something he can’t fathom. </p><p>Someway or another, Adrien manages to get to his feet. “I’m going to check on Marinette,” he yells at Alya, “and get Nino back!” </p><p>He dashes out of the door before anyone can protest. The sight that greets him isn’t any better. </p><p>It’s an akuma all right, but said akuma has already left the site of devastation. Tremors rock the school from underneath the courtyard, but right in front of him, behind broken, upturned tiles and the hole in the floor, is Marinette. </p><p>She’s huddled against the wall, arms wrapped around her shoulders and shivering. There’s no physical signs of injury that Adrien can see, but it’s obvious that she’s already encountered the akuma. </p><p>The shock drains into panic, and Adrien scrambles over the debris and wreckage to make his way to Marinette. The expression on her face is wide-eyed terror when their eyes meet, and even though Adrien kneels down next to her as carefully and slowly as possible, she still flinches. </p><p>“Marinette?” he tries to soothe, although it’s hard to keep calm with the noises in the background. “Hey, what happened?” </p><p><em> Chocolates. Marinette. Ladybug. </em> Adrien brushes each impossible possibility out of his head. <em> Not now.  </em></p><p>Marinette’s teeth are chattering when she looks up at him. “Akuma,” she gasps out, though her words are choked, as if she’s trying to hold something back. “It-it’s called Guilt Tripper. She hit me and I—” With a small sob, Marinette presses her hand against her mouth. Her whole body is still trembling, but not from any physical pain. </p><p>“I need to get you somewhere safe,” Adrien tells Marinette, even though his own hands have begun to shake. “Can you get up? We’ll go to the locker rooms.” </p><p>Marinette nods, but she doesn’t take her hand away from her mouth. Adrien helps her to her feet, wincing as another explosion wracks the courtyard, and leads Marinette towards the door. </p><p>
  <em> Chocolates. Marinette. Ladybug.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> STOP.  </em>
</p><p>With as much strength as he can muster, Adrien shoves the thoughts out of his head, instead forcing himself to focus on Marinette as they stumble towards the door. She doesn’t remove her hand from her mouth, but the panic in her eyes remains. Adrien wants to ask what’s wrong, but he figures she won’t speak anyway. </p><p>He’s just beginning to push open the door to the locker room when Marinette drops her hand from her mouth. Her whole body shakes like a leaf against Adrien.</p><p>“It’s my fault,” she chokes out. </p><p>Adrien freezes for a split second before he tugs her into the locker room. There’s no one inside and it’s remained relatively untouched by Guilt Tripper’s attack on the school, and Adrien figures it’s a safe enough place to keep Marinette as he goes somewhere to transform. “It’s not your fault,” he soothes, even as her eyes begin to glaze slightly, the effects of the akuma settling in. “Listen to me, Marinette. Stay here and you’ll be safe. Chat Noir and Ladybug are going to deal with Guilt Tripper, and it’ll be fine. I’m sorry  I have to leave you here, but I—I have to find Nino and make sure the rest of the class is safe, and—just please stay here. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” </p><p>He stands to leave, but before Adrien can make it anywhere, Marinette’s hand shoots out and latches onto his sleeve. Her grip is tight—almost unnaturally strong—and it effectively slows him down where he is. </p><p>“Ladybug’s not coming,” Marinette tells him. </p><p>He freezes. “What?” </p><p>The eyes that meet his shouldn’t belong to Marinette: there’s a quality in them that’s not quite human, with nothing of the kindness that Marinette usually exudes. Instead, they are empty and angry and sad at the same time. </p><p>“Marinette?” Adrien tries again, this time unsuccessful in hiding the tremor from his voice. His heart is pounding so fast that it feels like it’s about to burst from his chest. “Why isn’t Ladybug coming?” </p><p>“It’s my fault,” Marinette repeats. “It’s all—it’s <em> all </em>my fault.” </p><p>“Marinette, please—” </p><p>Her other hand latches onto his wrist, and Adrien’s whole body jerks as Marinette gives him a sharp tug. Her voice rises, bordering on hysterical. “I <em> didn’t stop him!”  </em></p><p>A numb horror slowly spreads through Adrien’s body as it clicks together like a puzzle. Still, he refuses to entertain the realization—she <em> must </em> be talking about something else. <em> It’s not possible.  </em></p><p>Adrien barely recognizes his own voice when he asks, “Who didn’t you stop?” </p><p>It’s wrong. He <em> knows— </em> knows if his suspicions are correct and Marinette Dupain-Cheng is indeed Ladybug, he shouldn’t be pressing on it more; shouldn’t be taking advantage of the fact that these words are not her own but forced by the akuma. <em> Guilt Tripper, indeed </em> . Adrien’s own guilt rushes through his body the moment the words leave his mouth, but it’s too late to take them back. Curiosity isn’t innocent wonder as much as it is a vicious monster, digging its claws into Adrien until he <em> has </em>to know. </p><p>“Hawkmoth.” Marinette has released his sleeve in favour of hugging her knees to her chest. “If I had just given Chloe the Miraculous, then she wouldn’t have turned into Miracle Queen, and none of the rest of the team would’ve been akumatized and controlled. And—and Chat Noir’s gotten hurt for me <em> so many times </em> and I can’t do anything and I’m just too scared and Master Fu is gone and—” The next words border a sob. “I <em> failed everyone.”  </em></p><p>Adrien cannot breathe. Marinette’s words rise like an unforgivable tide and Adrien is drowning deeper and deeper in them and the realization they bring. There’s no denial, there’s no ignoring, there’s <em> nothing </em>to turn to but the truth. It’s spread out in front of him, a pile of old doubts he’d disregarded, and now these new ones, rising and forming until the picture is too clear for Adrien to ignore. </p><p>Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug. </p><p>
  <em> Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug.  </em>
</p><p>She continues on as if she hasn’t even noticed that he now knows. “I’m supposed to protect the city, but I can’t even protect my friends anymore. I couldn’t protect Master Fu. I can’t protect my partner. Everything’s—everything’s been falling apart more and more, and now that Hawkmoth is even <em> more </em> powerful, there’s <em> nothing </em> I can do.” The words spill out one after another, and along with everything else, it hits Adrien that Marinette is <em> reciting </em> them nearly hysterically. The faraway look isn’t gone from her eyes, either— <em> something </em>Guilt Tripper did to her is making her say all of this. The akuma is making her confess her strongest guilts. </p><p>“Marinette,” Adrien tries carefully, and he doesn’t even attempt to keep the tremor out of his voice. Marinette. <em> Ladybug. This girl was Ladybug.  </em></p><p>There’s no time to focus on that now. Adrien kneels down in front of Marinette, who’s still caught up in her own nightmare, her words becoming and more nonsensical. Adrien catches something about her parents, Alya—<em> his name?— </em>before Marinette huddles even more into herself. </p><p>“Marinette,” he repeats, louder this time. There is no reaction. </p><p>“Marinette, please!” Adrien tries to grip her shoulders, but with strength he hadn’t expected her to possess, she shrugs his hands off her. “Marinette, it’s not your fault. It’s—it’s okay.” </p><p>For the first time in the last couple of minutes, Marinette doesn’t look <em> through </em> him; this time, she looks <em> at </em>him. Her eyebrows draw together: recognition, then anguish—such anguish that tears straight into his chest until Adrien can no longer breathe. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” she gasps out. </p><p>“T-there’s nothing to be sorry for.” </p><p>“I’ve been lying to you and everyone else about this! My parents, my friends, and I’m not even doing my job properly. How many more people have to get hurt because of me? How many times will <em> Chat Noir </em>get hurt because of me?” </p><p>Adrien’s mouth goes dry. <em> She doesn’t know, </em> he tells himself as he struggles to quell the panic that is inevitably rising bit by bit at every moment that passes. It’s panic that he’s never felt before: not with his father, not with Ladybug, not with <em> anyone— </em> coupled with the realization that Adrien has yet to have time to coach himself through, he feels like he’s edging onto the verge of a breakdown. Even as Chat Noir, Ladybug has always been the one who’s done the thinking, while he just… <em> follows.  </em></p><p>
  <em> What would Ladybug do?  </em>
</p><p>For one, Ladybug most likely wouldn’t be panicking as much as he were. Ladybug has a critical eye for all situations, can dish out solutions for the seemingly impossible—but that was <em> Ladybug </em>. And now, Ladybug is the girl in front of him, crushed under the guilt of things that shouldn’t have been her fault, crying and apologizing for other people’s wrongdoings. </p><p>Adrien takes a deep breath. If guilt is the problem, then, theoretically, he has to make her understand that it’s <em> not </em>her fault. Telling her he’s Chat Noir will most likely distress her more, he figures—at least now. So he holds onto that piece of information, no matter how badly he wants to let go. </p><p>“Marinette,” he soothes. “Hey, can you listen to me?” </p><p>She looks at him. At least she’s somewhat responsive now, even if she’s still shivering. </p><p>Adrien knows guilt. He knows it from his friends, when he has to turn them down yet again because he’s not allowed the same freedom they are. He knows it from his time as Chat Noir, when there are people who are hurt, ones that they save but cannot heal the scars left from it. And most of all, he knows it from his father, who’s every word of disapproval would bring that guilt churning in his stomach, haunting him for the long, shameful walk up to his room. It’s that guilt—the one that stems from his father—that has followed him for so long, until it’s stinging presence has transformed into something Adrien forced himself to live with. </p><p>But it is also Ladybug—and Marinette—who chipped that away for him, slowly but surely, until he realized one day that it <em> wasn’t </em>his fault. </p><p>“You’ve done more than enough,” Adrien reassures her. His voice catches in his throat. “Marinette—Ladybug? It’s okay.” </p><p>She looks at him. “How can you say it’s okay?” </p><p>“Because…” <em> Because I know you—as Marinette, and as Ladybug. And I understand you.  </em></p><p>But now wasn’t the time. The last thing Marinette needed was for her to realize he was Chat Noir too. Adrien didn’t want to push it on her. “Because I know what it’s like to feel guilty for things that aren’t your fault,” he finished. </p><p>Marinette was silent. Adrien takes it as a good sign and continues. “My father used to never let me out of the house unless it was for something like a photoshoot,” he tells her. “And even now, he’s not particularly… lenient. It happened after my mother died, and he was never the same again. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to please him.” </p><p>She looks at him—<em> truly </em>looks at him this time, a bit of the akuma-induced fog clearing from her eyes. “I played piano, did fencing, did Chinese and Japanese and Italian, and tried to get good grades. But none of that mattered to him because my mother was gone.” </p><p>Marinette draws in a small breath. “And then?” </p><p>It’s <em> her </em>voice; Ladybug’s voice; Marinette’s voice. How had he never realized that they were the same? </p><p>“I blamed myself for my mom’s disappearance, even though it wasn’t my fault. I blamed myself for not being a good enough son, because I couldn’t make my dad happy. But recently, y—a friend made me realize that what my dad has been doing is wrong, and I shouldn’t feel like the guilty party.” </p><p>A small, hiccoughing laugh escapes Marinette. She breathes in deeply, squeezing her eyes shut, and whispers, “Thank you, Adrien.”</p><p>He straightens immediately. “Are you okay now? Do you remember what happened? Are the Guilt Tripper’s effects wearing off?” </p><p>Marinette opens her eyes slightly, peering at him through wet lashes. “You know,” she mumbles. </p><p>“I know what—<em> oh.” </em></p><p>“That I’m Ladybug.” Her eyes are clear now, although the guilt on her face is far from gone: even without Guilt Tripper’s influence, Adrien can see the struggle apparent. It makes painful sense: the akuma didn’t <em> create </em> guilt, only amplifying what was already there. “Adrien, please, please, <em> please </em>don’t tell anyone. I—I’ve already messed up getting attacked, but no one can know. Please.” </p><p>Her words don’t bring sharp pain, but the muted, aching sort. <em> She doesn’t trust me.  </em></p><p>“I won’t,” Adrien promises Marinette. </p><p>The quiet stretches. He knows that outside, Guilt Tripper is still wreaking havoc and both Chat Noir and Ladybug are here, sitting in their civilian forms, yet he can’t bring himself to remind her. </p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>The words are a quiet, shameful admission. Adrien blinks at her. </p><p>“Sorry?” he echoes. “For what?” </p><p>“I’ve been lying to you this whole time.” </p><p>“What? No! It’s not your fault. You had to keep it secret. Trust me, I understand. I’m not mad at you. Honestly, I’m just…I’m just surprised, and happy to know that Ladybug was you. I think it makes so much sense.” </p><p>Marinette’s eyebrows draw together. “You can’t say that to make me feel better,” she warns. </p><p>“I mean it! I called you our everyday Ladybug back then, but you <em> are </em> Ladybug. It makes sense. I don’t know how it could’ve been anyone <em> but </em>you.” </p><p>The words come rushing out before Adrien can stop himself, and he curses himself a little too late for his carelessness. But now, with reality setting in, everything makes <em> sense. I love Ladybug. Ladybug is Marinette. I love Marinette.  </em></p><p>It’s <em> right. </em>Joyfully, painfully, wonderfully, terribly right. </p><p>Marinette offers him a shaky smile. “Thank you,” she says again. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you—oh, <em> no!” </em>She throws her hands up in a scramble of panic. “The akuma—it’s still out there! I completely forgot about it. Chat Noir’s probably facing it alone and I don’t want to be late again even though I already am and—um, do you think we can talk about this later?” </p><p>Adrien meets her blue eyes. Marinette. Ladybug. </p><p>“Yes,” he replies. “Of course we can. But, ah, akuma first?” </p><p>Marinette nods. Then, without wasting a second, she scrambles to her feet with surprising ease, and runs towards the row of lockers behind. Adrien hears the transformation words, and in a blur of pink light, she is already swinging out of the broken window. </p><p>He knows, as Chat Noir, he has to leave. Ladybug—Marinette—can’t deal with it all by herself, and after the scare they’ve been through today, there’s no way he’s letting her get hurt ever again. </p><p>But for a couple of moments, Adrien remains frozen. It was Ladybug’s balcony he had gone to all those times; Ladybug’s room that he had sat in, watching movies. It was Marinette who had been hit by Impastar that day, who had lay in a broken heap under the crushing pressure of the akuma’s weapon. It was Ladybug who handed out macarons to the class, who, until recently, had always spoken to him in a stutter and nervous laughter. It was Marinette who he met often on the rooftops, talking about their days in as vague detail as possible—the days they had <em> shared </em>unknowingly. </p><p>Ladybug. Marinette. How had he been so <em> blind?  </em></p><p>A slew of other thoughts—memories of his partner and his friend, of Ladybug and Marinette—threaten to break from the dam, but before Adrien can entertain them further, Plagg flits out from his shirt. His kwami’s eyes are graver than usual, but he offers Adrien a quick nuzzle on the cheek (which, for Plagg, is surprising support) before gesturing in the direction Ladybug had gone in. </p><p>“Best you go after her, kid,” Plagg offers. “We can talk about this later too, if you’d like.” </p><p>Adrien nods numbly. Plagg is right; there are more pressing matters at hand. He has the rest of the day, week, month to think about what to do and what had just happened—but not now. </p><p>“Plagg, claws out!” </p><p>In a blur of green light, Chat Noir stands in place of Adrien, and then he’s racing out after Ladybug. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>....oops? </p><p>partial reveal! </p><p>Find me on tumblr at <a href="https://e-milieeee.tumblr.com/">e-milieeee!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im so sorry for disappearing for a month n a half i got caught up with other stuff AHHHHHH<br/>but here's another chapter! i fully intend on finishing this fic, and the angst is almost over. for now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Guilt Tripper leaves a trail behind her of affected people that are easy to follow, but Ladybug can’t quite put her heart into the actions. There’s mass panic in the streets—the sort that nearly throws her back into her own breakdown—an awful reminder of what had just happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her first order of business after jumping through the window is to curl up on the roof to catch her breath. She can still feel the akuma’s power in her, combatted only by Adrien’s words—</span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s not your fault. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They are a fragile whisper, threatened to be torn apart by everything else, all of which are bigger and stronger and prevailing against such a small piece of comfort. Ladybug clings onto them desperately, even if Guilt Tripper’s power still thrums inside of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s all your fault. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This happened because of you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now Adrien knows—you’ve put </span>
  </em>
  <span>him </span>
  <em>
    <span>in danger as well. Nobody was supposed to know about this. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Master Fu chose the wrong person to be the Guardian. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It piles higher and higher until it’s all too overwhelming, and Ladybug tries to force herself to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but it’s ridiculously hard to do so. All she can think of is that she’s messed up even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, </span>
  </em>
  <span>until even the whisper of Adrien’s reassurances melt into oblivion. Because what does </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>know of being a superhero? What does he know of the guilt and the terror and the constant feeling of inadequacy? Even now, knowing full well that she’s only succumbing to Guilt Tripper’s power, Ladybug is unable to do anything about her own </span>
  <em>
    <span>feelings. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s stupid. It’s weak. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>weak, while Hawkmoth has only become stronger, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice breaks her from her thoughts. Ladybug straightens with some trouble as the black in her periphery sharpens into Chat Noir’s figure. He approaches her carefully, with a sort of uncertainty in his step that she hadn’t noticed before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she gasps out. “I’m—um, I’m sorry right now it’s just—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits down beside her immediately, and a hand rests against the small of her back. She grips onto the faint comfort. “Are you okay? Is it sti—what happened to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much.” Ladybug’s hands are shaking again. “Got hit by an akuma. Why are you here? I thought… I thought you would be after her already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was following her trail,” Chat corrects. His face is slightly pale, and Ladybug realizes that the hand against her back is trembling. “Then I saw you here. You got hit by her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shivering won’t stop, but she still manages to nod. Under Chat’s worried gaze, Ladybug pushes herself to her feet, even if the action itself requires so much effort that her vision doubles in front of her. The relentless attack of guilt doesn’t stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug,” Chat says quietly. Is his voice shaking, or is it a trick of the mind? Ladybug doesn’t know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she grits out. “Give me a moment. Then we can go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look like you’re okay to fight right now,” he points out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While she knows the words come from a good place, she’s immediately defensive. “I can fight!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat backs up with his hands in the air. “Woah. Calm down.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug takes a deep breath. It’s easier to focus with Chat here, even if his presence isn’t nearly enough to completely chase out the power Guilt Tripper still holds over her. And not just Guilt Tripper, really, but the accumulation of guilt that has gradually piled higher and higher with no reprieve in sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen,” Chat tells her in a gentler voice. The hand resting against the small of her back begins to move gentle, soothing circles. “I… I saw what Guilt Tripper did to the students down there as well, and I know you might think it’s your fault, but I promise you it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Whatever you might feel guilty of, please don’t blame yourself for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words are a strange echo of Adrien’s own: </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s not your fault.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A new wave of guilt tumbles over Ladybug. It’s best not to tell Chat about Adrien, she decides, because it hardly seems fair to him. But it’s one more thing to carry nonetheless, and her own promise that he’d be the first to ever find out her identity rings in her head. Another broken promise. Another secret she will have to keep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she tells him instead, without specifying what for. “And thanks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaton. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Let’s go take down the akuma.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gets to her feet, although with much more effort than it should’ve taken. Chat doesn’t offer too much help—not so much that she’d feel useless, but just enough to be a support—and Ladybug swallows the storm still swirling in her stomach and lets loose her yo-yo. </span>
</p><p>He lingers behind on the rooftop for a couple moments longer before following. </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guilt Tripper is still wreaking havoc in the streets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She isn’t loud like many other akumas; instead, the girl is practically silent with the rare cackle when a victim is hit. She wields the inky black gun, shooting down people in a seemingly random pattern. There are children and adults alike kneeling over on the streets, some clutching their ears, some tearing at their hair, others shellshocked and speechless with terror scribbled viciously over their faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Compared to what Ladybug is accustomed to from Hawkmoth’s other akumas, this is… eerie. The damage inflicted is all mental, at any rate, and she wonders if this is truly the sort of thing a Miraculous Ladybug can fix. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They crouch on the rooftop, surveying the damage and figuring the best way to purify the akuma. “Is it the gun?” Chat Noir asks with a frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug tries not to look at all the immobilized victims. It reminds her too much of herself, and of Adrien and the talk they must inevitably have after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone—</span>
  </em>
  <span>it had to be Adrien Agreste who found out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not a bad thing, really. Even if her friendship with Adrien is just blooming and still tentative, he has proven himself trustworthy and reliable. But she wonders—what does he think of her now? Does he like her more, now that he knows she’s Ladybug? Or perhaps he has lost his respect for Ladybug, seeing Paris’ untouchable superhero reduced to a shivering, crying mess, defeated by the akuma </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was supposed to defeat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug?” Chat nudges her gently. “Are you okay? Are you sure you don’t want to sit out for this one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinks, lifting her head. “I…um, sorry. I was just thinking. I’m fine now, really.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives her a questioning look. Ladybug </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants to tell him, but she’s already been unforgivably distracted, and every second gives the akuma another foothold. “Let’s get the gun,” Ladybug decides. “I’ll distract her in the front, and you can cataclysm it from the back. Try to make sure she doesn’t see you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next look he gives her is very much worried. “Are you certain?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Yes. I’m fine now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Chat can fuss any longer, Ladybug throws her yo-yo towards one of the lamp poles and reels herself in. Her legs feel shakier than usual but she still manages to land without stumbling, balancing on the streetlight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guilt Tripper!” she calls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl lifts her head. Bottomless, inky black eyes peer into hers, and Ladybug falters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Terror comes crashing back to her at the sight of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” the akuma says softly. Her voice carries towards Ladybug like the wind, the tilt of her head unnatural as Guilt Tripper regards her. “You have so much guilt in you. Why are you trying to fight it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault,” she repeats quietly to herself. Ladybug fixes her gaze on the black shape that is creeping towards Guilt Tripper, a stealthy shadow that the akuma has yet to notice; a source of tremendous comfort to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladybug!” singsongs the akuma, this time louder. The gun is levelled to her again, and somehow, Ladybug is thinking enough to start swinging her yo-yo into a weak shield. “Come now, you’ll be my prettiest masterpiece.” She pulls the trigger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The splotch of black travels towards her at alarming pace, although this time, she’s fast enough to move. Ladybug launches herself off the pole, but the landing lacks the usual ease and grace. She hits the ground at a rough angle, curls into a roll at the last minute, and scrambles wildly to her feet just as the akuma trains the gun to her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling,” she coos. “Why must you fight the truth?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you're lying,” she grits out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” The girl spreads her arms. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>are lying to yourself. I can see the guilt in storm clouds around you, Ladybug. Being Paris’ protector must be hard, having to watch over so many people and knowing so many more get hurt under </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>watch. Why don’t you let me help you? Guilt demands to be felt, after all, not bottled up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not my fault,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she snarls at the akuma, but her resolve wavers. Chat is paces away, his cataclysm bubbling in his hand. He holds a finger to his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault?” the akuma parrots. “I’ll show you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>how much </span>
  </em>
  <span>is your fault, Ladybug.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifts the gun. Ladybug braces her shield. The akuma doesn’t know she’s already been hit, but if she’s attacked again… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Guilt Tripper spins around and pulls the trigger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The splash of ink that hits Chat Noir is unmistakable. He’s too close to duck and the movement is too sudden to predict, and Ladybug can only watch in horror as it sinks into his suit, disappearing into black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat doubles over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The akuma lets out a slight cackle. “A valiant effort,” she breathes. “But you two have become foolish. Paris’ superheroes both hold such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful </span>
  </em>
  <span>amount of guilt, and you have played directly into my power—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat’s hand, the cataclysm still rippling from his fingertips, shoots out and wrenches the gun from the akuma’s hand. It dissolves under his power like dust, and he straightens from his hunched position to his full height. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong,” he says, voice dangerously low. The gun shifts into a necklace that tumbles to the ground, a black butterfly slipping out. “Guilt is reserved purely for the guilty, and neither Ladybug nor I are guilty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conviction in his voice sends a shiver up her spine. Quickly, she captures the akuma and purifies it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the white butterfly flits away, Guilt Tripper dissolves back into herself, leaving a wide-eyed girl kneeling in the middle of the streets. She turns around wildly, taking her surroundings in with shaking hands and manages, “What did I do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s then that Ladybug realizes that she’d never ended up using her Lucky Charm—she still has to summon it to restore the akuma’s power and the damage. Still, seeing that there are more important things at hand, she kneels down next to the shaking girl. She looks familiar—from the same school, but perhaps a bit younger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was akumatized,” she whimpers. “I—I was akumatized, right?” She waves her hands around to where the people have yet to be cured from her power. “Did I… did I do all of this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug’s mouth dries, all the words she could’ve and should’ve said slipping away just like that. The feeling settles in, discomfort and panic and the sheer inability to do anything about it, and she simply freezes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Chat Noir that helps the girl to her feet. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Listen to me. Arianne, right? What happened today wasn’t your fault. Yes, you were akumatized, but that’s not on you. That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>one hundred percent </span>
  </em>
  <span>on Hawkmoth.” His ring lets out a warning beep, but he ignores it. “No one has any right to take advantage of your emotions—what you felt is valid. Hawkmoth will pay for this, I promise you. Try not to let this affect you too deeply, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She relaxes slightly at his words. “O-okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My transformation is about to fall soon, but do you think you can get back on your own? Ladybug needs to finish something up as well.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arianne nods, this time with more certainly. “It’s not far from here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chat gives her one more encouraging his while his ring’s warning becomes more insistent. He turns back to Ladybug. “My Lady,” he says, as way of farewell. “I… is there anything else you need?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His green eyes are sincere, but behind them flickers a hint of uncertainty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Ladybug murmurs absentmindedly. Adrien. After this, she must go find Adrien. “Thanks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>chaton. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’ll be fine now. I just need to Miraculous Ladybug to fix this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He falters where he stands, as if there’s something else he wants to say. But he doesn’t. Instead, she feels Chat’s gaze linger on her for another second too long, stirring an old guilt that runs deeper than Guilt Tripper’s attack, before he turns and disappears over the rooftops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something off with him that Ladybug can’t place. It’s the strange air of seriousness that she isn’t quite used to on Chat, the lack of jokes and the intense way he’d surveyed everything—their surroundings, the akuma, </span>
  <em>
    <span>her—</span>
  </em>
  <span>that is different on her partner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she has much more than Chat to worry about now. Heart still heavy, Ladybug throws up her yo-yo once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The good thing about the Miraculous Ladybug is that the gnawing guilt disappears, but the feeling that remains eating away at her has little to do with the akuma. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ladybug realizes that she has no idea where to actually find Adrien—they’d agreed to meet up, but without specifics. Thankfully, when she swings by the school, she spots him in the courtyard, eyes lifted to the sky. He spots her almost the same moment she spots him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s about to land in front of him when she notices the group of other students who are beginning to gather. So instead, she makes a motion to the outside and changes course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A minute later, Marinette has transformed back. Then the realization hits that she can technically contact Adrien with her own number now that he knows she’s Ladybug and he'll know that it's from her, as Ladybug (the concept is mind-boggling), but then her train of thought crashes off course when she is left once again pondering what this all now means. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finds Adrien at the doors. He’s out of breath when he finally runs up to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he says, halting. His eyes flicker over her face, but settle somewhere behind, not meeting her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s stomach does a full summersault, straight up to her lungs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she manages, then winces. Despite the million other things that need to be addressed, it’s now that her crush comes barrelling back full force, because even though his perfectly styled hair is slightly mussed up he still looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And on top of that is the fact that Adrien Agreste’s personality is somehow </span>
  <em>
    <span>better </span>
  </em>
  <span>than his looks and </span>
  <em>
    <span>God help her </span>
  </em>
  <span>she likes him so much that it physically hurts—</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Um,” Marinette blurts in order to keep her thoughts in line. “I’m… Ladybug.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She winces at the particularly unconvincing words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien shifts his weight again. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Let’s go somewhere to talk, then? Maybe a cafe? Probably best that it’s somewhere with less people.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His packed schedule comes to mind. “Don’t you have Chinese lessons in twelve minutes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien looks at her with absolute confusion written on his face. Marinette clamps her hands over her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Adrien’s expression cracks into a grin. “Impressive,” he compliments. Tension crackles like lightning between them, charged full of unsaid works, but his smile breaks a bit of it away so Marinette can breathe again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s positive she’s going to melt into a puddle of goo. “I’m very observant,” Marinette tries to amend, although she’s certain she’s past saving. “But my point still stands. Aren’t you busy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adrien shakes his head. “It’s alright if I don’t go today. Is a cafe okay, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette nods. She once again has to remind herself that it’ll never be the same with Adrien—not with this between them—and she can only hope that somehow, out of this mess, the change that follows can be good. </span>
</p><p>(She hopes, hopes, hopes amidst all of this, it's not too much to hope for.) </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find me on tumblr at <a href="https://e-milieeee.tumblr.com/">e-milieeee!</a></p><p>Feedback is very much appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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